


Seraphina

by Justanothersinger



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Chains, Childhood Friends, Confinement, Extremely Dubious Consent, Food Porn, Friends to Lovers, Gangsters, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oral Sex, Prison Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Time Loop, Time Skips, Wall Sex, and also character studies on our favorite birdy, going to study for tests and sleep for 1000 years, good lord where do i even start with this fic, sex and psychological torture, this got so long holy mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothersinger/pseuds/Justanothersinger
Summary: 'He stands in front of Akechi, like the incarnation of a dream.In smoke, in fire, ethereal, he seems.(And yet the blood on his skin, the bruises on his neck, his lips,show how very, very human he is.)His fingers are gentle as he touches Akechi's cheek.With warmth in his gazeAgain, he speaks."It's alright, Akechi."Pointing the knife at his chest, he repeats.'It's alright."Akeshu time loop AU. Rated E for explicit for explicit sexual themes, dubious consent, no consent given, and explicit mentions of gore, death and suicide. Written for the Shuakeshu Big Bang 2018





	1. Denial.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Shuakeshu Big Bang 2018! 
> 
> Special thanks to lynxlatern(Kersone) for doing arts for this fic and just being a rad person in general to work with! Go to lynxlatern.tumblr.com and show em some love guys! This was a dual effort and their arts for the fic are over here(will be posting it in the fic as well later with their permission): 
> 
> **https://lynxlantern.tumblr.com/post/174758285828/shuakeshubb-my-part-is-done-its-been-a**
> 
> for more akeshu suffering pls go here -jazz hands towards link- : 
> 
> **http://heart-machine-drama-queen.tumblr.com/akeshu**
> 
> go here to ask for more of the suffering/the gay/both: 
> 
> **http://heart-machine-drama-queen.tumblr.com/ask**
> 
> All requests are accepted! All requests must gooooo!

Seraphina

A Persona 5 fanfiction

 

He stands in front of Akechi, like the incarnation of a dream.

(Like a nightmare. Where he couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried.)

 

In smoke, in fire, ethereal, he seems.

(And yet the blood on his skin, the bruises on his neck, his lips,show how very, very human he is.)

His fingers are gentle as he touches Akechi's cheek.

(His expression crazed, desperation incarnate, his gaze burning.)

With warmth in his gaze(the fire in those eyes, never-changing, never)

Again, he speaks.

 

"Akechi."

His name, in a soft(strained) whisper,

The world around them, burning in smoke, in fire.

In this circumstance, what is he supposed to think?

What was he supposed to feel?

 

Rage? Fear? Sadness?

Over _this_ piece of trash?

 

"I can't, anymore."

It's hard for him to talk.

The blood. It blooms over the wound in his chest like watercolor flowers, thick over his pale, bruised, discolored skin, drips down his mouth.

Slow, hypnotizing almost. Almost.

 

And Akechi can't look. He stares to the side, with quickened breath and wild eyes.

He coughs, the smoke thick and almost tangible.

The fire burning in his lungs, as well.

 

It's....hot.

(It hurts.)

(It burns.)

_Don't look, don't look, don't look._

 

"Look at me."

His hand curls around the knife.

"Akechi, look at me."

 

He closes his eyes, blocking that hateful gaze from view.

(Like this, it's a lot easier to pretend.)

 

"It's alright."

"As if." Akechi says out loud, before he could stop himself.

Akechi's words are harried, a hysterical laugh escapes his throat.

 

He just keeps talking, talking, talking.

With blood in his lungs, his windpipe, he just keeps _fucking talking._

Now of all times, he has no secrets to keep.

Now of all times, he starts to falter.

So does Akechi for some godforsaken reason.

 

"It's alright."

And it takes longer than it should for Akechi to move.

To lunge forward, knife in hand.

 

Again.

And again.

It's a feeling Akechi could never get used to.

Watching it, feeling it, as flesh gives way, the clack of bone against his blade.

 

It's always more difficult through the ribs. Probably more painful too.

And he doesn't move, even as Akechi stabs him. Barely flinches.

The feeling seems to already be dead in his body.

It's harder for him to keep his eyes open. But he does.

 

Even like this.

 

(With the light in them fading.)

All he does is look Akechi in the eyes.

(Through the dark red painting his lips pale.)

And smile.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's hot.

The sun.

The sun beating down on his skin.

 

The first few things he's able to register in his brain. Hardly as eloquent as he would have liked. His brain is loath to join his waking body, but somehow he puts all those little observations together.

The sun beats down on his skin, even as he soaked up the precious little cool air from the tiny little mechanical fan, a recent purchase in the light of the fantastic timing of the breakdown of his air conditioner. A purchase from somewhere he didn't even know about and now doesn't care about, because it's doing as little to help alleviate the scorching heat as it possibly can while making as much noise as it possibly can to annoy him.

 

Even more so, now that he's fully conscious. The buzzing digs into the back of his mind, almost painful. With a groan, he flicks the switch shut and buries his face into the cushion again.

 

.........

..................

.........................

 

And he just realized he'd switched off the only thing actually cooling him down. His finger moves again, just a bit, over the switch before he gives up, letting his hand drift limply on the floor.

The sweat is sticking to the back of his neck, his face, his arms, his everything. Any hotter and he'd be melting into the leather. Akechi sighs and it only adds to the sweltering heat.

It feels even more unbearable with his eyes closed.

He shades his face with his hand and opens them, sitting up. The sun beats down on the glass, through it, making spotlights on the floor, on the couch, his legs, arms, shoulders and neck. He squints at the window, the offending fireball in the sky, before he relents to the forces of summer. Standing up and stretching, a brief yawn as he sluggishly making his way towards the kitchen.

Stopping immediately as he hears noises from the inside.

 

Ah.

"You alive?" The voice calls from within. Akechi's presence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Somehow, yes." Akechi replies. His tone is pleasant, he keeps it that way.

"If you died before lunch, I'd be pissed." Kurusu Akira says, light, airy, uncaring, "Someone has to eat all this."

"Just throw it away."

"Sure, but it's your money you're wasting. Does being a detective really pay that well?"

"It does when you do your job right."

 

"Uh-huh."

Their conversation is banal. Woefully common.

This kitchen is even more of a furnace than the living room was. Kurusu stops whatever he's doing to pull out a chilled bottle of water from the fridge.

"They pay you to show off in front of the camera too?" He asks, in-between gulps of water.

"Show off?"

"The talk shows, the press conferences."

 

His throat is parched. The heat soaking through his skin, through to his brain.

"There was one yesterday." Kurusu finishes, almost as an afterthought, “They’re airing it today too later.”

“...I see.”

“It’s been awhile since you were out in public, so they’ll take what they can get.”

And of course, he says it out loud, blandly, without concern for atmosphere.

“Couldn’t you say that my ‘worth’ has increased by limiting my public appearances?”

“Mmhm. You could say that.” The clattering of the knife on the cutting board stops as Kurusu seems to ponder something, “I recognized that show too.”

“...You probably would have. That was the venue you arrived at when I-”

“Ah. You said you didn’t remember that.”

“I don’t.”

“Mm.”

 

It’s time like these that Akechi wonders how he was ever a phantom thief.

There's a...worrying hiss from his pan then and an even more alarming cloud of smoke forming, interrupting his musings.

"...What exactly are you making?"

"Lunch."

"And that is?"

"Kurusu-style curry, extra hot." He grins at the expression on Akechi's face. Expected, as well as his response, it seems.

"...'Extra', you say...don't you think it's hot enough outside already?"

 

"You have to eat hot stuff during summer." Kurusu knocks against the freezer door, "Don't worry, though, I'm not that mean. I do have a giant tub of ice-cream waiting right here."

"Aren't you prepared."

"Enough for one."

"One?"

 

Akira grins and taps his wooden spoon on the pan, "The one who can eat all this and not die."

"...With the flat in this state?"

"Yep."

 

"...Is that a challenge?" Akechi says, with a smile.

"Like it always is. Hey, today's movie night, so at least you'll have something interesting to watch while I kick your butt."

"That's definitely a challenge." Akechi hums.

 

He plucks the water bottle right from Kurusu's hands and downs in it one go.

Wiping his lips, feeling the chill wash over him as he meets Kurusu's eyes.

"When do we start?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

He says movie night, but it's closer to afternoon when they start.

Kurusu draws the curtains and plops down on the couch, next to him, settling the food down on a nearby table.

It's a horror movie, he says cheerfully, and he borrowed it from a friend of his.

 

_You had friends? Akechi asks._

_I'm very popular. Kurusu snarks._

_And yet, you're spending your day with me._

 

Akechi doesn't say, out loud.

Akechi is the one who loses. Inevitably. He doesn't know why he tried.

Strangely enough, the tub of ice-cream is bigger than Kurusu had implied.

Two spoons too.

There were more cold bottles of water next to their feet.

 

X-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

“It doesn’t hurt to go outside, once in a while.” Kurusu adds, as an afterthought. It takes a while for Akechi to even remember what they were talking about.

They’d long since finished watching the movie, and opted to switch over to tv instead. Just in time for his own special to come on.

“While I do admit seeing my profile on live television is quite the ego-booster,” Akechi says, looking away from the TV and towards Kurusu, “Didn’t you see this before?”

“Mm...I did.” Kurusu doesn’t make a move to reach for the remote though. Well, it doesn’t matter though, Akechi thinks to himself, at this point it’d serve as more of white noise, a rush of distraction over his brain, away from his own thoughts.

It doesn't really matter, he thinks, as he watches Kurusu be engrossed in his profile. 

 

"You just have to be careful.” Kurusu says again, asserts again, as Akechi switches the channel to a news report. About the certain stalking case from the last few days, the one that's ended up in more than a few stabbings. Looking back at him.

"Aren't I always?" 

"More than usual." Kurusu says. His tone actually sounds a bit grim now and there's a serious expression on his face as he watches the report. 

"...You're that worried about me? Even while saying that I should go outside in the same breath..."

"Staying in here isn't really healthy, either." He shrugs.

 

“So which one is it?"

"Well, I didn't say to go out _alone_..." 

"Ah, I see. Only with you by my side?” It’s more of a joke on Akechi’s part than anything.

 

“I’ll be there.”

Akira says, in a more serious tone than Akechi would have liked.

With a smile that seems so much kinder than Akechi would have liked.

 

“...I know.” Akechi says, a casual reply and he turns to look back at the TV.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

By the time they'd finished, discarded dishes in a pile on the table, Kurusu speaks up again.

"You have the week off, right?"

"Mm." Akechi says listlesstly. He'd relinquished the ice-cream bucket now; Akira was scooping up the last few drops.

"You should probably get some rest, then. I'll stop by with more groceries tomorrow; you're running out."

 

"You have my key...?"

 

"You didn't realize your extra copy went missing, huh. You have to pay more attention to that kind of stuff." He says matter-of-factly, "Help me clean up the dishes."

"...Alright."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Sure enough, he's back by Monday night.

"Ahhhh, air conditioning is the best~I'm revived." Is the first thing he says as he walks through the door, pulling at his shirt, "Ah, I'm back!"

"Mm." Is Akechi's reply. He looks back, from the couch.

"You got it fixed that fast?"

"In this kind of heat, it would be rather unwise to leave it in that state. " Akechi makes a move to get up from the couch, "I'll take the bags."

"It's fine. I'll keep everything up."

 

"...That's kind of you."

"I am supposed to take care of you." Kurusu says matter-of-factly.

"Are you now. You're quite serious about it."

"Years and years of experience. Boss traded them off by teaching me how to cook."

"Your forte so far does happen to be spicy food."

 

"You're still sore about that?"

"Not really."

"If you say so. If it makes you feel any better, the selection of snacks I've got right now are much more bland. And a little salty."

There's a pause in the shuffling of plastic.

"Did you get some sleep today?"

"...Yes."

"That's good."

 

Akechi does look up at him as Kurusu drops some beer packs on the table in front of them.

"You don't have classes tomorrow?"

"I do."

 

"That bad a day?"

Kurusu shrugs. Taking a seat beside him.

"A normal one."

"So a boring one then."

 

"Maybe." Kurusu offers him a can.

Akechi takes it, of course. It was never like him to turn down an invitation. Even from Kurusu, for whom such pretenses was wasted on.

 

Express sympathy, as Kurusu says something trivial.

Express empathy, as Kurusu says something trivial.

Repeat and respond. Repeat and respond.

Akechi wonders of idle things, as he picks up a can, he forgets what number it is. Losing his train of thought, his train of conversation. Ah, it thinks, it's not like him to slip.

He's still tired.

 

"Akechi?"

  
Leaning against the sofa leather, they stare into each other's eyes. Akira's words were slurred already.

It's hot, Akechi thinks, in light, airy clothes and the heat sticking to his cheeks and the roof of his mouth, those sensations were somehow razor sharp in his mind, through the muddled mess his brain seems to have become.

It's hot.

 

He's close enough to feel Akira's body heat. It's almost unbearably hot this close.

 

A clumsy, warm hand over his arm, his shoulder now. Through strands of Akechi's hair.

And Akechi doesn't bother to reply. Or say anything.

Such pretenses were wasted on him.

 

Because Akira was pretending right now.

So Akechi closes his eyes as Akira draws closer.

 

It's slow. Light. The touch on his skin, the lips on his, they're painfully slow and feather-light, almost chaste. Almost like he was afraid.

Akechi does look at him then, as he pulls away. He stares back.

With heat flushed cheeks and the hand pulling away, just a bit, he stares back.

 

Still all pretenses.

Still pretending it was an impulse, a drunken mistake.

Those eyes, expectant, still a sharp stone grey, say otherwise.

 

"Coward." Akechi whispers, before leaning in himself.

He's nowhere near as gentle as Akira was.

 

Pressing him up against the leather, until he has nowhere else to run.

Digging his fingers into Akira's shoulders, with a slight hiss of pain as he presses down. But Akira's meeting his eyes again now.

"Coward, huh?"

 

He smirks up at Akechi now, all uncertainty gone.

Hidden behind the mask.

 

"What do I have to be scared of?"

 

He lies. And it grates on Akechi's ears, twists at his expression too, probably. Based on Akira's reaction.

"...Akechi?"

 

"Shut up." Stop talking. And Akechi does that by kissing him again.

That's all that he's doing, he thinks to himself. As his teeth bite down into Akira's soft lip, the strange undertaste of something sweet, in his breath even as Akira relents, opening his mouth with a sigh, quietly muffled by greedy lips on his, a lying tongue in his mouth.

His hands wind around Akechi's neck and pulls him close, making Akechi stumble, falter. Until he's hovering over Akira's body, the sudden momentum shakes him and he pulls away.

"Wait-"

"No way."

 

And he's the one who initiates the kiss this time. All confidence, all sweetness, with fingers winding in Akechi's hair, gentle and relentless. His tongue in Akechi's mouth, eyes closed and muffled words that slipped past Akechi's comprehension.

They barely move to part from each other, even as their lungs strain and the sweat stains the back of his neck, his forehead. Their tongues in each other's mouths, he could barely even tell who was the one initiating, the one dominating. It's all he could do to feel.

 

Through the mess of curls that was Akira's hair, his other hand grasping furiously at his shirt, drawing him closer, closer.

Feel his lips aching by the end of it, wet and sore red, a sting from his back where Akira's nails may have scratched him.

Even like this, Akechi couldn't move away.

Their foreheads brush against each other, and like this, he stares at Akira's eyes.

Enough.

 

It's not enough.

"I know." Akira whispers.

Saying this as he pulls Akechi close and puts his lips on Akechi's neck.

Saying this as his hand m0ves down.

 

There's a hiss of breath through his teeth as Akira touches him, first through his boxers, light, teasing. And Akira grins weakly. The reaction he was expecting.

The reaction Akechi was expecting.

 

His own hands seem to be pulling at the string of Akira's shorts.

He feels the brush of lips against his neck.

 

And the scrape of teeth as Akira starts stroking them both.

It sends a shudder through Akechi's spine, something that he barely represses.

 

"Akira."

A sigh of his name, heated, exasperated.

Slick, wet sounds from Akira's fingers now and Akechi breathes out, a harsh breath buried into the leather, eyes averted.

"Akechi." Akira whispers back, near the line of his pulse and he traces the shudder along

Akechi's spine with his free finger, even as Akechi tries to hold his head up high, all the more so to avert his eyes.

 

"Look at me."

"..."

 

Curses that bite his tongue, shaped like Akira's name.

For Akira and for himself, as he weakly complies.

As they climax together, Akira stares into his eyes, with an expression that burns into Akechi's mind.

That confident, masterfully-controlled expression torn to pieces, shattered and thrown aside in throes of lust.

 

"..."

It was infuriating.

He hears the hitch in Akira's breathing as he leans down some more and bites his neck harshly, returning the favor.

 

"Nngh."

The hand on Akechi's back clutching at his shoulder, and he exhales, shakily.

"...Hurts."

 

"Just...returning the favor." Akechi says, with as much composure as he could manage.

"I was a lot more gentle with you, though."

Akira chuckles. Softly. Even as his expression tightens.

"Akechi..."

"Don't."

Akechi says with a sigh. Lying back down in such an uncomfortable mess of tangled bodies on a cramped sofa, his head on Akira's shoulder, eyes looking away.

"...Alright." Akira says.

 

There's something stroking the top of his head softly and his voice is...close.

"I won't."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Wednesday morning, Akechi lays in bed, alone.

With his covers thrown aside, in an ungainly heap on the floor, and the place at his side empty and cold.

He looks towards the window.

 

It's barely dawn. He could see the yawning sky through the gap in his dusty curtains.

...And he's not going back to sleep now.

He can't.

 

Akira's in the kitchen again.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"...Morning." Akechi's the one who speaks first.

"Morning." Akira says back. He smiles.

 

"I thought...you had classes today?"

"Skipping."

"Again? Goodness, wherever did that admirable attendance record from high school go?"

"You're feeling better."

 

"..."

"It's only the second day in the semester. And I needed to lie low back then." Akira says simply." He looks over his shoulder at Akechi, "It's pancakes today."

"You're spoiling me now."

 

"And you hate that still, don't you?"

"Hate's...a strong word for it."

Akira sets the last stack on the plate and looks back at him.

 

Towards Akechi, who's now standing right behind him.

"Something wrong?"

"You're acting like nothing's wrong."

 

At that, Akira does look at him.

"...You didn't want me to say anything."

 

At times like these, Akechi could almost delude himself into thinking.

Thinking that he could see into Akira's heart.

When he kisses Akira, it's softer.

Far more gentle than he had intended.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

**Seraphina**

**Chapter 1: Denial(or what you with your eyes to the planets and the world crumbling at your feet before you.)**

**End.**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 


	2. Anger.

Seraphina

Chapter 2:

 

It's fine like this.

 

It's movie night again and they're starting in the afternoon yet again. This time, it's not even a movie. It's a drama one of his friends recommends.

They stopped at episode one, at Akira's behest. He wasn't in the 'proper mood' for it, he says.

Coincidentally at the time the news came back on.

 

"This is unhealthy." Akechi says, dryly.

"What is?"

"You're near obsessed with this story now."

 

"Shouldn't you? This is your stalker they're talking about." Akira says, careless as usual.

"..."

Akechi pointedly keeps his eyes away from the TV, from the pictures of blood and dead bodies and remains silent.

 

"Plus it's all they're talking about." Akira continues.

"I'd think if anything, you'd be the one most disconcerted by it."

"I already get death threats and such, y'know."

 

"That's...that's not a good thing, you know."

"All it takes is just to know you." Akira shrugs, "I got used to it."

"...."

"You didn't sleep well, again."

"Not really." Akechi answers. His plate is still full and Akira notices.

 

"You can give that back to me, if you aren't hungry."

"No, I am."

He still takes it away. "Sweet things are easier to eat." He says, simply. He's passing him another tub of ice-cream. The freezer was packed to the brim with these.

"I doubt that eating junk food would help much, though."

"So something is wrong with you?"

"Ah."

 

Perhaps it's because of that, but he's slipping up more and more around Akira these days.

"Well..."

  
Akira just seats himself on the couch, closer to Akechi than he normally was, remote in hand.

"You can go back and sleep if you want. I'll watch it alone."

"I'm not that tired." Akechi looks at him. "And I can't exactly say no to free ice-cream."

"...Mm."

 

By the time episode 2 starts, they've long lost interest.

Music and dialogue reduced to little more than white noise and a glow in the background.

At this point, he's more preoccupied with the taste of vanilla and white chocolate, sickly sweet on Akira's tongue, over his lips.

A small healing cut on his full lower lip, a trophy from last night.

"When I said 'have a taste', I didn't exactly have this in mind." Akira says, with a chuckle.

Akechi raises an eyebrow at him, "You didn't?"

"...Maybe I did?" It's less of a question and more of a statement, playful and daring.

And like a fool, he takes the bait.

 

The ice-cream drips onto his fingers and onto Akechi's tongue and Akira squirms, just a bit, his breath a little more shallow than before.

"Something wrong?" Akechi couldn't help himself from asking and the way Akira's cheeks redden, the way his composure cracks, breaks through, the breath trapped in his throat as

Akechi's knee moves ever so slightly between his legs.

From his fingers to his palm to the pulse in his wrist, the salt of sweat mixing with the sweetness.

"I don't...think so." Akira manages, even as his breath hitches from the way Akechi strokes his dick, his t-shirt hastily shoved away to a heap under his neck, where the milky white drips down to make tantalizingly sweet cream over flushed skin. "You...look really, hff, really-"

 

Whatever snappish retort he was trying to muster was lost. His voice does break with Akechi's nails pressing on the side of his neck, his teeth on Akira's collarbone, following the trails of chocolate and vanilla. Over healing marks, with butterfly kisses, Akechi's hand move down from Akira's neck to his chest and he's far from gentle, pinching at his chest harshly and feeling his body tense like a violin string on the verge of singing. His hips brushing up against Akechi's as he bites down on his own fingers to muffle his cries.

Something that Akechi rips from him when he pins Akira's hands against the headrest, and he barely manages to keep the popsicle itself tilted away from them as it drips over his knuckles.

With his hands somewhat preoccupied, Akira could only watch, as Akechi bites down harshly on his skin, his body jolting just a bit and the pace of his breath picking up, with cries hitched in between.

 

"You're this sensitive, already?" Akechi says, teasing, the thrum of his voice over Akira's heartbeat.

"...I-it hurts, a bit..."

"Does it now? I've barely touched you though." He complains even as Akechi's fingers rub along his nipples, even as they're scraped sore and red and his neglected, teased erection presses against Akechi's thigh.  
"I've barely touched you and you're like this."

It does occur to Akechi, the reason why. Even as he says it.

  
How Akira's body reacted to his tongue, his fingertips.

And Akira staring at him, steadily still, want in those cursed eyes, even unfocused as they were.

 

"Were you thinking about me yesterday?" Akechi still continues, relentless, and he has the absolute pleasure of seeing the remnants of that cocky expression break apart, with red on his cheeks, his ears, his neck.

 

"I was right here, you know." Akechi says.

Why didn't you just ask me? He doesn't say.

"I could have heard you."

A sharp jolt in Akira's body as Akechi speaks, his fingers rough on his sore nipples, his other hand palming Akira's erection and Akira bites down on his own fingers to muffle his cry.

 

 

"...?"

 

Only for them to be pulled away.

 

Only for Akechi to lean in ever closer, till his breath was on Akira's earlobe.

"You're so eager. Why don't you tell me what you want?"

 

And he watches as Akira unravels under his ministrations, the tautness in his expression, his body unravelling at the restraints of his mind, his knee presses up against Akechi's hips as he opens up his legs, his body under prying hands.  
With Akechi's thumb moving over his mouth, over sore lips, drawing a slight strand of saliva from where he tasted sweat and chocolate.

"Tell me what you want, Akira."

  
They stop for just a bit, just a second, enough for that question to weigh in the air.

 

He feels it press into his back, in the back of his throat, and then Akira moves, just a bit.  
To meet Akechi's eyes.

"I want you." There was hesitation, his words steady, his voice unsure.

  
"You don't sound sure. "  
"I'm not...ready. But I will be."

"You will be?" Akechi raises an eyebrow and Akira grins.

  
"I have...to show off my skills right?"

With a brush of lips against his, gentle, Akira whispers.  
"Wait for me?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Of course, like everything else, he had to make it a show.

He pushes Akechi back against the pillows, propping him up into a comfortable seating position. Before straddling his hips and sitting on top of him.  
He's discarded his pants at some point along the way to the bedroom, Akechi thinks. He can't remember how they got here.

 

Akira's taking his shirt off now, a tube of something in his mouth.  
Oh.  
"You've planned this for a while." Akechi notes.

 

"Have to impress you, don't I?"

"You? Impress me?"

"...Mm. Not really impress."

 

 

Akira leans in then, and Akechi suppresses a shiver as he whispers in Akechi's ear.

"To make you want me."

"...Heh. I'm interested in seeing you try."

 

 

He feels the shivers as he runs his hands along Akira's back, holding him close.

Hears the noises, feels them almost, like he feels the cold sensation of the lube against his bared stomach from mischevious fingers. The sounds as it spreads over his fingers, as Akira brings them downward, feels it as Akira's body tenses and Akechi's hand anchors the arch of his back.

 

Akira's mask, in tatters, on the mattress as he stares at Akechi with raw want in his eyes. Unravelling, throughly at his fingertips, staring back at him through gasping breaths.

 

"...Ggh."

It hurts.

"Are you alright? Hey."

 

His hands were gentle as he strokes Akechi's cheek.

And he still kept fucking looking.

 

"Look at me." Akira says. And Akechi does, almost helpless, matching his gaze as he feels them intertwine more, more, Akira's warmth around him, losing all his senses. He bites down, worries his lower lip as Akechi moves.  
And he still keeps looking.

 

"It's alright."

"...I'm fine." Akechi says shortly, and kisses him to shut him up.

 

That's all it was.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The hot water washes over his skin, his hair, and he barely registers it through his daze. The heat building up in his body, the sweat on his back, the warmth in his lungs.

The rush of the shower a dull, metallic hiss in his ears.

The colors, too nauseatingly bright.

As if his senses were sharpened, heightened, a blur of daydreams and reality.

 

"..."

He doesn't stay for too long in there, as usual.

Akira was still asleep. He seems every bit as exhausted as Akechi felt.

  
He does move away a bit at the touch of the cool, wet rag, opening his eyes.

"...It's difficult for you to sleep like this, isn't it?" Akechi asks, by way of explanation.

The sweat on his forehead, the cum on his stomach.

The bites on his neck and collarbones, the bruises on his thigh. Not much he can do for the last two.

 

He starts a bit when he feels a tug on his shirt.

 

"Akira..."

  
"Too early." Akira grumbles.

"It's almost noon."

"It's a day off." He squirms, just a bit, as he feels the damp towel against his skin.

"And you want to spend it sleeping all day?"

"We can go out later."

 

And that makes him pause.

Akira's eyes are open now, staring at him.

"If you want." He clarifies.

It's noon, so the sun is already peeking through the curtains.

  
Harsh, bright, glaring.

"...I'll...think about it." Akechi says, through dry lips, a scratchy throat.

And Akira smiles up at him. Warm and understanding.

Harsh, bright.

 

"Alright." Akira says.

When Akechi lies back down, he feels arms wind around from behind him.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

They do get up, late in the evening.

Akira was making something or the other. Probably some kind of sweet.

"I almost miss the days of spicy food. I may become susceptible to cavities, at this rate."

 

"And yet, you're developing a taste for it." Akira says with a grin, as he turns back around.

He's about to say something else, when he notices it.

"Is it alright if I come back and eat?" Akechi asks. He's wearing short sleeves, of course, for the heat. Fighting back the urge to smooth down the fabric more or let his unease show through his fingers somehow.

"...Sure."

  
Akira says, with a casual nod. He doesn't say anything else, doesn't ask if he needs to come.

And Akechi just turns around and heads for the door.

Pausing, just for a bit, as Akira calls him.

 

"Akechi."

  
"...Yes?"

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

"...I always do. Goodbye."

 

"...Bye."

He thinks he hears Akira murmur something else as he leaves.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The downsides of summer were starting to show again.

Honestly, it's all that he knew, this past week.

The humidity that clings to his clothes and skin, the way the sun far overstays its welcome.

He dryly notes the soft pastels at sunset even as fatigue tugs at his eyelids, at his bones, reminding him of the late time of day.

 

He's not even that far from his apartment. The bench he was sitting at was near the park entrance, a park about 14-15 minutes from the apartment complex he stayed in.

And yet, sitting here all alone like this, with the late evening sun pouring through the shimmering foliage of the trees, the smell of flowers on the warm evening breeze...

And the utter lack of music, of noise, of anybody and anything around him.

Sitting here like this, in utter isolation, is a feeling that he knows all too well.

 

A feeling that he truly, and utterly, despises.

 

At some points, he thinks that he can feel it physically crawl up his skin, up his spine and whisper in his ear in a voice that he knows all too well.

Reminding of how utterly useless-

His hand slams down on the bench before he even knows it.

He watches as the blood rushes under the skin of his fingers.

  
"...It hurts."

...He hates going outside.

It's too quiet.

He can hear his own thoughts.

 

As opposed to home, where he's surrounded by them.

As opposed to home, where they talk to him.

Where they speak the sweetest of nothings to him.

Orders Akechi to look at him, directly.

  
With those eyes.

 

"...Isn't staying at home worse for me?" He mutters to no-one.

It would have. It is.

Akechi had closed his eyes without realizing it.

 

When he opens them, it's nighttime again.

Not that much time had passed, had it?

Those familiar sensations.

  
His breath heavy in his throat, the sweat slick against his skin, his face, the hair sticking to his neck and cheeks, the heat.

Those familiar sensations.

 

He doesn't feel any of them.

The shiver passes through his body, less so from the sudden cold.

  
...No.

When he stands up, it feel like his body is hollow.

Empty.

With nothing but his heartbeat, reality like a cold splash of water on his face, down his spine.

No...!

  
"Shit!"

He breaks into a run back to his apartment, knowing he's already much, much too late.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Because when he'd returned, the flat is dark. The switches don't work, neither does the phone, as he would find out later.

Doused in darkness, his own home looked strange, alien, foreign to him.

 

"Akira...?"

So did the sensation of his name in his leaden throat.

And Akechi doesn't have to walk far to find him. He's still in the kitchen.

  
He never left.

Slumped on the floor, against the kitchen counter, unnaturally and awkwardly posed like a puppet with its strings cut mid-performance. Wrists bent against the strain of his torso and the freakish bent of his hands, his legs splayed on the floor, head tilted to one side and exposing his vulnerable neck.

From the dim light of the moon, from a window someplace, it's easy to make out the splash of red on his shirt.

It's all Akechi could see.

 

There were...multiple, Akechi notes as he slowly makes his way towards Akira.

Multiple giant gashes cutting through that apron that Akira had showed off for him earlier. A present from the family he'd stayed with. He'd always kept it neat.

Akechi notes dimly that he's going into shock. He notes this as he falls to his knees next to Akira's body and reaches his hands out to touch him.

  
Still....warm.

The blood smears his fingertips.

His body felt so frail, lifeless.

  
And Akechi looks up.

And meets his eyes.

 

Before Akechi could recoil move back, he feels Akira's fingers over his own. Brittle, barely any force on the hand that touched his.

  
"...A..."

He tries to mouth something and a harrowed, croaking noise escapes him.

His lips, his tongue, coated in blood.

 

 

"Hu...r..."

 

"Don't...don't talk. Don't talk!" Akechi says and he's shouting, a strangled sort of cry in a voice that he barely identifies as his.

"...A...ke..."

"I said, don't talk!"

A scream. It's unbearably loud in the silence of the flat.

There's something cold under Akechi's other hand.

He doesn't want to look at it.

 

"A...ke...chi..."

His name sounds so ugly in that groaning. "Don't waste your breath...!"

There's a weak smile on Akira's face.

 

He doesn't let go.

He doesn't let go until Akechi picks up the knife from the floor.

He doesn't look at it, though.

 

Its curved blade is sharp on Akechi's bloodstained fingers.

He knows the shape all too well.

So does Akechi.

 

Even with all the hesitation beforehand, it's...almost too easy to plunge the kukri into Akira's chest.

His body is broken, pliant, easily giving way to the final blow.

 

And so close, this close, they sit on the floor.

In the mockery of a lover's position.

The stench of blood, of death is overwhelming, suddenly.

 

He can't breathe.

With his face buried over Akira's bloodstained heart,

  
As he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels cold lips smearing blood in his hair.

And falls asleep, just like that.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

_"Oh you couldn't help yourself, could you?"_

He's done it again.

_"You knew exactly how this story would end."_

He doesn't want to open his eyes just yet.

 

Akechi's breath, a shuddering hiss against his teeth as he feels that finger push his chin up more, to a face he doesn't want to see.

Don't look at me.

The warmth of him against Akechi's back, his fingers over the pulse of Akechi's neck.

Even as he feels something sharp against the side, nearly piercing skin.

 

  
_"Is this what you wanted?"_

You know the answer to that as well as I do.

 

There's bile in Akechi's throat as the voice chuckles, grating as metal on his ears.

_"Very well. The contract has already been forged."_

_"Awaken, young prince."_

_"Thine dream must continue."_

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

When he does awaken, the flat is dark.

Cold. Dark.

Empty.

 

The sound of rain against the window, so loud it feels as if it's rattling against his bones. Making him feel colder than he actually is.

He looks towards the frosting window panes, watching the drops slowly sink down into the oblivion that waits for them, as he lies in a sofa that threatens to swallow him whole, with leather that sapped whatever warmth remained in his body.

Maybe it's the lack of light. The way that his fingers hesitantly wander through the sea of darkness, parting through it like the lonely cold moon above.

With the evening settling quietly over the bustling town, muffling its loud, clashing cacophony of sound.

Maybe it’s that, but he doesn’t even feel like he can recognize his own room. His own home.

  
Like the darkness there, coating the walls, swallowing up everything he knows.

He thinks to himself, as he just...lies there. Lies there, and lazily wondering to himself if he could be swallowed up by this darkness if he just let go.

Just let-

 

A sharp ringing sound has him opening his eyes again.

It was mostly out of habit. He didn't even realize that his doorbell was ringing until the second time.

Sharp, impatient buzzing noises with a fervor that honestly shocked him, that pecked away at his impatience, souring his mood further.

  
It's enough to get him up at least. Enough to open the door.

He shouldn't even be surprised anymore. He tells himself. this as he sees who stands before him.

Clothes soaked, more of those raindrops dripping down his cheek, his hair, towards the lush carpet. The soft lighting throwing dark colors on pale skin into harsh relief.

  
That careless smile through chilled lips, a weakened mockery of that smug expression.

 

Still so familiar.

He shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

 

"Hey."

His shoulders, sunken, under the weight of mere water.

And maybe something else Akechi couldn't see.

 

But he raises his head, somehow to meet his eyes.

Like always.

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?" Kurusu asks, quietly. Akechi could barely hear him.

  
"..."

It takes a while for Akechi to speak, like always.

To figure out what to say.

"I don't sleep much these days." Akechi answers in a flat tone.

 

"Is that so? Sorry to hear that."

 

His clothes, Akechi notes, are woefully inadequate. A simple, light shirt and jeans combo, with a paper-like jacket, something that you'd wear on a light, midsummer's day.

"I didn’t mean to come by so late."

“Why did you even come, at all?"

 

He shouldn’t have said that. The frustration, it’s evident in those words that sound so hollow, so empty.

And yet, still enough to break through that strangely fragile mask of his, until he's gazing at Akechi with a shockingly pained expression.

It infuriates him.

 

"Why are you back here?"

"...I didn’t want to. Come back, I mean."

  
And Akechi grits his teeth. Of course not. Why should he want that?

Perhaps at some level, he's realized what staying beside Akechi means for him-

 

"...!" Something interrupts that train of thought. Akechi looks up, sharply.

"...Akechi?"

"Shh."

 

At the edges of his vision, Akechi could see it.

The glitches in the hallway. How time and space folds into itself, eats away at the carpet and the walls at both sides of the corridor where they both stood, that loud humming noise in his ear, drilling into his mind.

"You look...are you alright?" Akira asks him.

 

"You should be more concerned about yourself."

They inch ever closer towards Aki-...Kurusu.

 

"...So why are you here?" Akechi asks, resigned.

He does turn to look back at Kurusu then.

Akira blinks and smiles up at him, mask perfectly back in place.

 

...Perfectly. All confusion gone.

  
"I need a place to crash."

"You're staying here?'

"Just for the night."

 

From the corner of his eye, he could see the glitches disappear, completely.

That's it. Play his part. The ever-charming, ever-loved-

 

Kurusu's hands are cold as he sweeps past, touches Akechi's cheek.

Cold, practiced, sterile.

 

Everything about him is cold, is the inane thought in Akechi's head as Akira kisses him.

His hand cradling Akechi's cheek, a mere, chaste meeting of lips.

A lot more restrained than what he was used to.

 

"I'll pay you back, for all of it."

I shouldn't be surprised anymore.

Eat it all up with closed eyes and an open mouth.

 

"...? Akechi?"

One hand around Kurusu's waist, another in his hair.

"What's wrong, Akechi?"

He doesn't know what expression he's making.

Akechi doesn't speak again, because he doesn't need to.

He shouldn't.

 

Biting words, scathing insults, excuses, denials on his tongue.

He pulls Akira close again.

The kiss was biting, scathing. Desperate denial.

Between harsh breaths and fire in his veins, there's a bitter smile that Akira sees. For just a second.

Before he pulls Akira inside.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

**Seraphina**

**Chapter 2: Anger(in the words of a painter, clutching at his dying, fake dreams.)**

**End.**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

 


	3. Bargaining

Seraphina

Chapter 3:

 

Is this what you want?  
  
Is the unasked question as Akechi shoves him against the wall.  
  
He visibly flinches, but pulls Akechi closer still.

 

In a mockery of intimacy, he sighs Akechi's name, even as his hands starts to pull at Akechi's clothes and-  
  
"...No. No, I can't."

 

Akechi tries to pull away, but Akira's hands catch his.

"It's fine."

"It's...I don't want to-"

"It's fine."

"It's not!" Akechi says and he hates himself for how desperate he sounds, how much his panic shows through.

 

He can't...do this again.

Not...not again-

"Please, Akechi."

He breathes a long, shuddering breath, a breath he didn't realize he was holding, as Akira pulls him closes, kissing him on the cheek, on the forehead.

Sweet and tender.

 

It makes him want to retch.

 

_"Is that what he needs?"_

Asks the voice of his dreams. As gentle, as scathing as ever.

It hurts to breathe. Through the ache in his chest.

"Ugh...!"

 

Through the spike of anger, he finds it in him to slam Kurusu to the wall.

Pull at his clothes.

Bites at Kurusu's lips and tugging at his hair, until he opens his mouth.

Kisses him, with tongues that tasted and ravaged until they're forced to draw breath.

Moving down to Kurusu's collarbone where he kisses to mark.

Gritting his teeth as Kurusu scratches at his back, with his lips in Akechi's hair.

 

"Don't."

Kurusu doesn't listen, of course.

The rustle of his belt buckle does make him pause though.

 

"Akechi?"

 

And Kurusu flinches as he's slammed against the wall roughly, his arms around Akechi's back tightening as Akechi holds his legs up by the knees, Akechi pushing him further up to support him.

"Akechi?"

"If you don't want me to hurt you, prepare yourself for me."

 

Kurusu looks into his eyes again and shudders at what he sees.

"...Okay."

He pulls one of his hands from Akechi's back and Akechi watches as he opens his mouth and licks his fingers. Slowly, carefully, with kisses down his knuckles.

And he starts as Akechi kisses the other side of his hand, taking Kurusu's fingers into his warm mouth, his supple tongue.

 

"Don't stop." Akechi whispers, a harsh command, and Kurusu falters for just a second more before he complies, again.

They both lick his fingers at either side, until each finger dripped, coated with strands of saliva.

At the pointer finger, the final finger, Akechi pauses at the tip, a hair's breadth away from Kurusu's lips.

And Kurusu pulls it away, listlessly, almost as if he didn't want to.

He grimaces as he draws his his fingers down, a cursory slick across his bared stomach, the tip of his half-hard dick and finally, to his ass.

 

Wordlessly drawing Akechi closer to hold himself up, support himself. Sighing in his ear.

"Do it."

 

A harsh, cold, quiet command and Kurusu bites his lip as he forces his fingers to enter.

His fingers are shaking and his expression twists in pain, but he tries to rush regardless. Ever aware of the unsteady poisition he was in, relinquishing all control to someone else.

He hates that. Akechi knows that much about him, at least.

 

Kurusu's mouth is wide open now, and he's given up on stifling his cries. His eyes squeezed shut, he tries to draw his legs apart more, more...and Akechi could see everyhing.

The way his body heaves as he pants, an expression of desperation, bared wide open.

His fingers slowing down now, drawing more of those obscene sounds, carefully almost.

 

Deliberately almost.

Akechi looks up at him again and Kurusu actually has the audacity to smirk. Faded, though it may be, pained though it may be.

"Look."

 

He says quietly and Akechi forces down the shiver in his spine at the sound of his voice. Heated now, filled of want for...for him.

Unlike earlier.

"Look at me, Akechi."

 

His fingers had stopped moving, now pulling at the hem of Akechi's pants.

Almost touching him.

"Look at you?" Akechi repeats, in a...strange voice. Empty almost.

There's a gasp as Akechi pins him against the wall. And then, a cry of pain as Akechi enters him, his body going rigid.

 

"...Ggh."

"Isn't this what you wanted the most?" Akechi hisses now, a mockery.

This is what you want.

_"Is this what he wants?"_

 

It hurts when Kurusu scratches at his back.

It hurts him when he thrusts inside, roughly.

It hurts when Kurusu clings around him, whimpering now.

Because it hurts him as Akechi bites down at his neck.

 

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. It hurts so much.

Eating away at his will, his mind.

_"It's exactly what you wanted, isn't it?"_

It's easier not to think with all the pain.

It's easier not to hear that voice, snickering in his mind.

 

"I'll hurt you as much as you want."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

His dream, this time, is that of a child.

 

A child standing in his doorway. Staring up at Akechi with wide eyes, a quiet, calm air.

 **Akechi:** "It's nice to see you."

The child blinks and smiles.

_Correct response._

**Akechi:** "What happened?"

He shakes his head.

_Try again._

**Akechi:** "Isn't it quite late?"

He shakes his head.

_Try again._

**Akechi:** "Your parents will be worried. You should go home."

At that, the child ducks his head. His tiny shoulders shaking, and the sound of a sniffle.

 **Akechi** : "..."

 **Akechi** : "Don't tell me that was the correct response."

_Correct._

**Akechi:** "You're really not making this easier."

_Do you want it to be easier?_

**Akechi:** "I want to stop this."

_Stop?_

**Akechi:** "I don't want to do this."

 **Akechi:** "I don't..want..."

_Is that would-be lie another wish of yours?_

**Akechi:** "..."

A tug at his sleeve. The child.

  
**Akechi:** "You...?"  
  
**Child:** "Are you okay?"  
  
**Akechi:** "...I'm fine."  
  
**Child:** "That's a lie."

 **Akechi** : "A lie. Is it now-!"

 **Akechi:** "Your...your hands!"  
  
**Akira:** "You can't lie to me."  
  
**Akechi:** "Where did...you...?!"

 

That small hand had grown large, cold, leaving bloody fingerprints on his wrist in a vice-like hold.

Smears of it on his chest, his shirt, encrusted on his lips, in sharp relief against the pallid, ashy skin of his corpse.

And even with glazed over, unseeing eyes, their gazes somehow meet.

 

 **Akira:** "I always know what you want."

 **Akechi:** "No! Let go of me!"

 **Akira:** "Look at me, Akechi."

 

The glitches had already made their way up their hands, eating away, like they are at the flesh of Akira's neck, his cheeks.

 **Akira** : "Even if you did this I forgive you."

But Akechi still looks at him, as a mockery, a ghost of a smile, breaks across his face.

 **Akira:** "Even with this, I still loved you."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

When Akechi returns to reality, in a cold sweat and gaspinng breath, those eyes are still watching him.

"Morning." Kurusu says. It's almost laughable how nonchalant he is.

"What is...ah." And Akechi remember why Kurusu's in his bed, "...Morning. No...wait. It's still nighttime..."

"Bad dreams? Is that why you can't sleep?"

"One reason. What time is it?"

"Do you have work?"

 

Akechi ponders what answer he should give him. He settles on a shake of the head.

"Then you should sleep. If you can."

"I'm making my best attempt here." Akechi says. And Kurusu chuckles.

"If I knew you were so tired, I would've gone easier on you."

 

And the sleepy, dream-like atmosphere of this surreal talk seemed to chill in place.

The bed creaks as Akechi sits up.

"Who were you thinking of?" Kurusu asks.

"Thinking of?"

 

It's a question not meant for Akechi, probably. Kurusu's voice is quieter now, hushed.

But he answers anyway.

"Last night."

Akechi turns and looks at him, and Kurusu just smiles.

 

It doesn't reach his eyes.

"You must really like them. I'm still feeling it now." He says.

"I don't." Is Akechi's answer, immediate.

 

_"How ironic."_

Snickering, now. And his irritation spikes.

Akechi stands up abruptly and leaves the room, ignoring it when Kurusu calls his name.

 

_"Isn't it ironic?"_

"Stop talking to me.''

_"Are you that afraid of him discovering me?"_

Another chuckle and it's close, abnormally close to his ear. Akechi turns around sharply, just to come face to face.

With himself.

 

 _"It's not like he can see me."_ His reflection says.

No, it's far too callous, far too cruel to be called a reflection.

  
_"You're the only one he wants to see. Isn't that what you wanted?"_

"You think I wanted this?" Akechi hisses, "Do you think I wanted all of-?!"

  
_"Yes."_ The reflection says coldly. All traces of humor gone.  
  
_"This is exactly what you wanted."_

 

"As if-!"

Something shocks his leg just then and he looks down to see more glitches on the floor.

_"Now, now. Calm down. He can't hear me, but he can hear you."_

"He...!" Akechi abruptly stops himself and continues in a furious whisper, "I didn't want this! I didn't want it all to be like this, I didn't want him to-"  
  
_"This world exists for you."_

  
"Loki-!"

Loki continues on, relentless, that cursed smile on his face widening, widening into an unnatural bare-teeth grin.

_"This is why he can continue to exist for you."_

_"This is why he is trapped forever here with you."_

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It took him until the third loop to realize.

Just what exactly had happened to him. And even then, the realization was so farfetched, so absolutely unbelievable that he didn't realize what was happening.

 

Trapped forever, in a loop.

And it took him even longer to realize why.

 

The beginning, what it represents.

_As Kurusu puts the handle of the suitcase down to shake Akechi's hand, his palm warm and dry, as they talked about the past._

The ending, what it signifies.

_With Kurusu dying on the kitchen floor, the many stab wounds over his chest, the latest victim in a mass murder rampage vying for Akechi's attention._

 

It actually didn't matter what the loops contained.  
  
Because the beginning and the ending and the middle was the same.

 

They meet and he dies.

Over and over again.

But of course, it never could be that easy.

 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Akechi."

It's just the same thing now. Akechi thinks.

His tone was careful. He doesn't touch Akechi.

 

"Are you alright?" Kurusu asks.

"...Yes. I'm fine."

"...I'll make coffee."

 

"What? No, I'm fine-"

"I'm making for myself. I may have a bad habit of making some extra though." Kurusu shrugs, "...I don't sleep much in the night either."

He does laugh a little at the look on Akechi's face.

 

"...Coffee sounds good."

"I'll be borrowing the couch too."

"Of course you are." Akechi sighs.

 

Some habits persist even over time loops.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's late afternoon when they get up again.

"I thought you said you were staying for the night?" Akechi asks, looking out the window.

"...Several nights."

 

 

"You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?"

"My mouth was very preoccupied."

"Of course it was." Akechi sighs.

"I'll pay you back for it."

 

"I'm not interested."

"Akechi-"

"Just stay here if you want." Akechi says. The glitches haven't shown up yet.

 

"I can...? It's okay?"

"You're free to...pay me back. Do whatever. It's not necessary."

"Since when were you the charitable type?" Kurusu asks, eyebrow slightly raised.

"How terrible of you to say that. I'm not cruel enough to throw out someone who came to me in the middle of the night, Kurusu."

 

"Even someone you haven't seen for years?"

"Even so."

Is this his 'backstory'? Akechi wonders idly as Kurusu continues. How they 'knew' each other in this farce of a 'life'?

"Huh. Since you're working with the police, I thought you'd be more careful about that sort of thing."

So Akechi does work in this loop. He can count out PTSD or other similarly traumatic states of condition to be 'affecting him'. Perhaps. "...Is this why you didn't come by earlier?"

He asks.

 

"...No. Not really. I've gone to people for a lot less." Kurusu shrugs.

"And not to me."

 

"...You went on break at a good time."

"When you didn't have any options left."

A mirthless chuckle from Kurusu now. "I'm not offending you, am I? It's the truth. You wouldn't want to help 'trash like me'."

Kurusu looks up at him and continues, "That's what you said yourself. Remember?"

 

"...What happened to you, then, to risk even that?"

Kurusu shrugged. "Mixed up with the wrong people. It happens."

And he already knows how this loop's Kurusu will die.

 

"...Like I said earlier, you can stay here as long as you want. Do whatever you want."

"Sure." And Kurusu leans his head on his shoulder, eyes back on the TV.

"..."

 

By late evening, they've locked themselves in the bedroom again.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

He remembers the other loops often. 

...It's more like he's forced to, honestly. When they've left such an...impression on him. 

 

On this occasion, he remembers the seventh loop.

With him and Akira on opposing sides of the table, a harsh light shining over them, in a cold stone room.

Heavily oppressive, eerie even. He noticed it even back then.

 

And the atmosphere, having seemingly no effect on Akira, who sits serenly on the other side of the table.  
  
"Welcome back." Akira says, in a mockery of the usual greeting, waving his hands towards the only free seat.

 

"You seem awfully carefree." Akechi says. He remains standing.

"Do I? I think I've gotten used to this place."

"That's not something to be proud of."

"In a setting like this, I'll take what I can get." Akira shrugs, "Plus you learn pretty quickly to shed your pride when you're talking to someone over an intercom in a glass wall."

 

Akira taps the glass wall for emphasis.

"...They still shackle you, even with the glass." Akechi notes, "Have you been giving them that much trouble?"

"Not really. It's more of a precaution now. I haven't done anything really...interesting in a while."

"Interesting." Akechi raises an eyebrow, "And what would that entail?"

 

"You've received the reports by now, right?" Akira says, with an impish grin.

It suits the stripes on his clothes far too well.

"Don't you want to leave this place?"

"What do you think?" Is the returning question.

 

Ever composed, ever smiling, even if it didn't match his eyes.

"Would you want to leave?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Not the outdoors type?"

Akechi pauses. "I am. Although these days, I...don't find myself going outside unless I have something planned."

Kurusu hums to himself.

"Why the sudden question?"

 

"I don't see you much in TV appearances anymore. Not a fan of the attention?"

"..."

"I've seen more than a few of your fangirls around." Kurusu says, with a knowing grin.

"It's admittedly flattering. But they can be...a bit..."

 

A heavy thunk on the chopping board.

"They can get carried away."

"...I didn't know you cooked either."

"I don't. Not all the time." Akechi says, as he carefully sets the knife on the counter, as he continues, 

 

"I hope you're in the mood for something spicy, today." 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"You're leaving?"  
  
"Just for a bit." Kurusu says, while putting his shoes on, "Got some business to take care of?"  
  
"The same business that made you come here?"

 

"Nope. Meeting someone different. Shouldn't take long."  
  
"'Someone' different, hm."

"Are you jealous, honey?" Akira says with a grin, "You've always been my favorite, don't worry."  
  
"Of course I am, dear. You wouldn't let go of a catch like me, would you?"

 

"Akechi."  
  
The kiss on Akechi's lips is sweet, tender.

"I'm leaving."

"...Be safe."

"I always am."

 

And with a smile, Kurusu walks out of his apartment.

If only it were so easy for him to leave completely.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

When he dreams of the seventh loop again, the glass no longer seperated them.

He's warm to the touch, feverish even. He shudders as Akechi pulls his shirt down even more, exposing neck to teeth.

"'...said...it hurts."

 

"Aren't you exposed to so much worse, everyday?" Akechi whispers near his neck and feels the thudding of his heart through sun-burnt skin with an unhealthy pallor, Akechi's hands over thin, breakable wrists, where it seemed s0 easy for the bones to snap.

His head turns towards Akechi as his back strains to hold their combined weight off the table, shuddering more with each thrust in.

 

"...You're a lot rougher...than I thought you would be."

The touch of a warm feverish hand on Akechi's cheek, as he reaches up, a smirk through cut lips and dulled eyes.

Eyes that infuriate him.

 

There's a cry of pain, louder now, as Akechi turns him around and slams him against the table. In the brief instant where their eyes meet, Akechi thinks he sees it.

The hum of the glitches louder in his ear.

 

"Are you scared of me?" Akechi asks him and his teeth cuts through Akira's bleeding lip, taking relish in the way Akira gasps against him, even as he tugs at his hair. 

"...Scared?" 

The numbness rides up Akechi's leg as the glitches eat away at the flesh there, even as he claws at the table and fucks Akira rough and hard. 

 

Akira's chest heaves as he cries out, his expression warped in the pain and yet-

And yet...

He grins up at Akechi with an honestly blissful expression.

  
"Not of you, anyway." 

"Really? I didn't...give you enough reasons?" 

It hurts.

 

His breath caught in his throat, ice in his lungs as Akechi collapses fully on the table, the blood rushing to his head, and his heart thumping in his ears. 

It hurts so much. 

"You're giving me more reasons to live." Akira whispers. 

 

Akira claws down his back and makes it hurt more, more. 

"Aren't you cruel?" 

"Don't you like it that way?"

 

Akira laughs and it sounds so strained. 

He doesn't know it, but the glitches have started eating at Akira's fingers too, probably. 

"...You're giving a dying man more and more reasons to want to live." 

 

And like that, Akechi's laughter stops. 

Everything...stops. 

His body feels so cold as the pain and numbness suddenly vanish. 

 

"They're going to kill me soon." 

"...The prison? Or the prisoners?" 

"I'm a popular man, y'know." 

 

Their voices sound so hoarse, so tired. 

Their bodies still, and they look each other in the eyes somehow, breathing softly as one. 

  
"...How...long?" 

"Not sure. I could die today." 

 

Akira chuckles and that blank emptiness clouds his eyes again. 

"I could just step out of that door and get shot or stabbed to death. Freshly fucked. What...what a way to go." 

His body felt so cold. He's shivering now. 

 

"...Do you  _want_ to die today?" 

Akira just blinks. Then shakes his head. 

And smiles. 

 

"It...wouldn't be too bad." 

 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Later on in the seventh loop again, the glass no longer seperated them.

He's warm to the touch, feverish even. He shudders as Akechi pulls his shirt down even more, exposing neck to teeth.

"'...said...it hurts."

 

"Aren't you exposed to so much worse, everyday?" Akechi whispers near his neck and feels the thudding of his heart through sun-burnt skin with an unhealthy pallor, Akechi's hands over thin, breakable wrists, where it seemed s0 easy for the bones to snap.

His head turns towards Akechi as his back strains to hold their combined weight off the table, shuddering more with each thrust in.

 

"...You're a lot rougher...than I thought you would be."

The touch of a warm feverish hand on Akechi's cheek, as he reaches up, a smirk through cut lips and dulled eyes.

Eyes that infuriate him.

 

There's a cry of pain, louder now, as Akechi turns him around and slams him against the table. In the brief instant where their eyes meet, Akechi thinks he sees it.

The hum of the glitches louder in his ear.

 

"Are you scared of me?" Akechi asks him and his teeth cuts through Akira's bleeding lip, taking relish in the way Akira gasps against him, even as he tugs at his hair.

"...Scared?"

The numbness rides up Akechi's leg as the glitches eat away at the flesh there, even as he claws at the table and fucks Akira rough and hard.

 

Akira's chest heaves as he cries out, his expression warped in the pain and yet-

And yet...

He grins up at Akechi with an honestly blissful expression.

  
"Not of you, anyway."

"Really? I didn't...give you enough reasons?"

It hurts.

 

His breath caught in his throat, ice in his lungs as Akechi collapses fully on the table, the blood rushing to his head, and his heart thumping in his ears.

It hurts so much.

"You're giving me more reasons to live." Akira whispers.

 

Akira claws down his back and makes it hurt more, more.

"Aren't you cruel?"

"Don't you like it that way?"

 

Akira laughs and it sounds so strained.

He doesn't know it, but the glitches have started eating at Akira's fingers too, probably.

"...You're giving a dying man more and more reasons to want to live."

 

And like that, Akechi's laughter stops.

Everything...stops.

His body feels so cold as the pain and numbness suddenly vanish.

 

"They're going to kill me soon."

"...The prison? Or the prisoners?"

"I'm a popular man, y'know."

 

Their voices sound so hoarse, so tired.

Their bodies still, and they look each other in the eyes somehow, breathing softly as one.

  
"...How...long?"

"Not sure. I could die today."

 

Akira chuckles and that blank emptiness clouds his eyes again.

"I could just step out of that door and get shot or stabbed to death. Freshly fucked. What...what a way to go."

His body felt so cold. He's shivering now.

 

"...Do you want to die that badly?" 

Akira just laughs, mirthless, breathless. Doesn't answer.

Akechi ponders. 

Would he have begged for death? 

Would he have let himself be broken like this?

 

His eyes as he presses Akechi's hands to his neck somehow seems to have a spark of fire in them, vindictive. 

"Don't you want to kill me too?"

"Do you think of me as such a lowlife like them?" 

His grin is wicked, desperate, the hands that hold his wrist pressing into his skin with feeble strength.

Those pinpricks on the insides of his thighs.

 

"...Have you been drugged?" 

"You know how...bad it gets inside here. But...don't make the mistake of thinking I'm doing this because of that. You know...better." 

His words are coming out in short breaths now.

...Ah. Akechi's fingers were already pressing harshly into the skin of his neck.

"I see you and for some reason, my mind becomes..." Akira closes his eyes and grimaces, the pain catching up with him through his drug-induced haze. 

 

"...Since when did you become so pitiful?"

Akira gasps as Akechi tightens his grip, his body jerking up. 

"...Don't let me die like that."

And here, they reached the only possible conclusion for it all. 

Akechi squeezes tighter and groans as Akira wraps his legs around his waist.

 

The glitches had disappeared, completely. 

In the quiet room, all he could hear was Akira's dying breaths and the spasms in his body as Akechi feels him tighten. 

There's tears in his eyes now, glazed over, and yet they just keep looking.

He still manages to grip at Akechi's shirt with fading strength when Akechi looks away.

"...Don't. L...look...at...me....!"

"Shut up." Akechi whispers harshly into his ear, "You wanted to die by my terms, correct? Underneath me like the pathetic maggot you've become." 

"..." 

"You could've been a free man. You could have escaped much earlier. You could have lived, Akira."

 

It was too late.

His fingers were already slackening. 

His eyes were slowly growing dull as Akechi watched.

And still Akechi asks.

"Why?"

That expression that Akechi utterly despises was the last on his face as Akira closes his eyes.

And Akechi just...stands there. His breathing more erratic, his fingers locked in pain, and he pushes himself away from the table, up against the wall.

 

Already he can hear the world crashing around him. 

Already he sees the walls bend and crack as the loop starts to close in on itself. 

Already he can feel reality itself fading away.

"Why...?" Akechi whispers again to himself, as the floor underneath his hands gave way. 

As he felt his eyes close. 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

_"Why?"_

A question repeated, mocking.

In the depths of his consciousness, Akechi is always aware of this other self.

Loki just chuckles again, claws on Akechi's bared neck. 

 

That question, rattling around in the bars of your soul, the prison in your mind.

_"Why?"_

The voice that they share, save for an echo, and just hearing his own voice speak that word makes his stomach churn. 

"..."

But he can't speak, can't refute.

In this dream world, he is the one that is mute.

 

 

_"Why must you keep asking this over and over again?"_

_"Why is this happening to you?"_

_"Little prince, have you not started to realize?"_

_"With your prized mind and silver tongue, what your eyes refuse to see?"_

  
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Akechi?"

The first thing Akechi sees as he wakes up is Akira. 

"Are you alright?"

"I..." Akechi's throat is dry. 

 

Like phantom hands around his neck.

"...I'm fine."

"...And I'm supposed to just believe that when you're looking as pale a a ghost?" 

"I'm fine." Akechi says with more assertion, a tone of finality as he moves into a sitting position, "...You're back late." 

It doesn't work because Akira sits beside him, still with a deadpan look of disbelief on his face. He does seem to humor Akechi, though. 

"...Sorry, dear. Had to work overtime." Akira says, in a more playful tone now and Akechi resists the urge to roll his eyes.

 

"Overtime this late? You sure you didn't go anywhere else?" 

A dramatic gasp and a hand over Akira's heart now, "Do you think I'm being unfaithful, honey dearest?" 

"..."

At Akechi's silence, he drops the exaggerated airs. "...No, really. Just had some extra stuff to take care of." 

"The 'extra stuff' that drove you to me?" 

 

"So, that's the reason you can't sleep well? Nightmares? Didn't seem like the type to get them."

Akira answers Akechi's question with his own.

What an odd response. Akechi blinks. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm pretty sure every human on the planet has nightmares."

"True. It's more like I thought you didn't have things to worry about that."

 

"...Goodness. You don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Not really." Kurusu shrugs, "You just give off that feeling. Of being on top of the world and not caring about anything." 

"...And you don't seem to believe that?"

 

"In my eyes, you're the loneliest person I've seen." 

"...'Lonely', am I? That's slightly hurtful. I do have friends, you know." 

"So do I. But", Akira turns and looks at him now, with that same expression that Akechi hates.

 

A smile, with solemn, quiet, sad eyes.

 

"I feel like we don't really have many people that could actually understand us."

"...And what about you?" 

"What about me?"

"Are you any closer to understanding me?" Akechi asks, in a mocking, bitter tone, "Am I any closer to understanding you?"

 

A soft, wry chuckle.

"...Not really. We're kind of bad at that."

"Being honest with ourselves?"

Akechi lays his head back against the sofa.

 

He thinks he feels the warmth of another hand against his. 

"With the masks we wear, we should learn to take them off." Akira says quietly.

Soft hair against his shoulder and the warmth of another body against his. 

 

"Akira..."

"I'm not going to do anything. You're not in the mood." 

"..."

"Just stay still...for a little while."

 

"...Had a bad day?"

"Hey look, you're learning."

Akechi looks at him as he grins, even with that soft, understanding look in his eyes. 

That he absolutely despises. 

"You're understanding me. See? I'll catch up to you soon enough."

 

"...I wonder if that day will ever come." It won't, of course. 

_"He'd die, live and die again as a soulless doll made only for your pleasure, your pain."_

"..."

_"It's not necessary for him to retain memories."_

 

"...Just for a little while." Akechi says, very quietly. 

And they sit like that, in comfortable silence, for the rest of the evening.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

  
_"Little prince, have you realized?"_

_"The wish of this world, of your own making?"_

"..."

A chuckle. _"But of course. You've realized it long, long ago."_

From the third loop onwards, yes. He's had his doubts. 

Again, Loki questions him.

 

_"Why?"_

_"Why would Kurusu Akira be trapped in this loop?"_

_"Why would Kurusu Akira be forced to die for this loop to end?"_

_"Why must he die by your own hand?"_

 

Well, it was simple. 

It was a world where anything he wanted would come true.

"..."

How utterly morbid. He wants to kill Kurusu so badly, it appears in his 'dreams'?

Loki chuckles again.

 

_"And why would that be the case?"_

Because I hate him. 

_"But with all the loops, is that all it is?"_

Yes. Akechi answers in his head, immediately. 

He doesn't let himself think.

 

His skin crawls at the crazed laughter that erupts from Loki just then. 

_"Ha! Little prince, how blinded you are by your fantasy!"_

_"But so be it. You have made...progress."_

_"You deserve a 'reward' for besting this beast of your mind, this time."_

 

It's a worthless battle, Akechi thinks. 

And it's something he doesn't want to win.

 

Because that means this 'battle' has to end.

And when it does-

 

_"He's waiting for you."_

_"Go to him."_

_"And Akechi awakens from the dreamworld into another nightmare."_

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's far too late and he knows it. 

It's already started raining, pouring down heavily on his skin.

 

When he grieves, the skies cry with him. Why is that? Empty condoloences. 

His throat burns, lungs fit to bursting. He doesn't know where he's going because Akira never told him. 

But it's his world.

 

The surroundings around him glitch out when he steps on the wrong path. 

Eat away at the pavement, concrete, wood and steel that he doesn't need to see.

He follows this path as the world crumbles around him, but-

  
He stops dead.

 

What greets him is not the usual scene.

There was someone else there. Standing above Akira.

"...Who...who's there?!"

 

The figure doesn't turn to look at him, an indeterminate mass of shadows that seemed to swirl out of focus the more that Akechi tried to look at him and there's a painful screeching in his ear, his words as ungainly stutters, from either the dreams or the running, Akechi doesn't know, he doesn't care, he needs to-!

There's a flash of bright light from the glitches' static and when Akechi blinks the figure is gone. 

He knows this because the unholy screeching from the glitches has stopped. 

What was...

 

The tar soaked in darkness, something much more than rain. 

He sees it and realizes.

 

"...Akira!"

He should be used to this, he's supposed to be.

  
So, why does it feel like the ground has already given way under his feet?

Why does his throat burn with the urge to scream?

There's a pained smile on Akira's face as Akechi approaches. And he opens his eyes. 

".......He...y."

"Don't talk! Where are you hurt?!"

 

And Akira just keeps smiling, as Akechi approaches, his eyes dazed as if he could barely, just barely keep focus. "...Ake...chi..."

"I said don't talk!"

"...It's...okay. It..." He groans in pain, and Akechi sees his hand clutching at his chest, pressing int0 the stains of red on his shirt. Akechi pulls at his fingers, only to stop as they clutch at his hand. 

"...Don't. It's...too late for me." 

"Shut up!"

 

"...It is. I know." 

"What do you mean, you know?! You..."

Even torn up in this strange roil of emotion, the answer somehow occurs to him. "Were...were you running away from this? Is that why you came to me?"

Akira grins and it's that same hated expression. 

A smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

 

"Hey...you're learning." 

"Shut up, I said!" 

"Stop asking...questions, then. Ugh."

He coughs and more blood on his pale fingers and near his lips, and his voice is weak from more of it clogging his throat. But he still continues talking.

 

"...I dragged them to you. Sorry." 

"Them? Who's...the people chasing you?!"

"And I...I'm a lot of things. Seen...a lot of things." Akira continues, blindly, even though it pained him to even talk, for fuck's sake, stop talking-!

"...I didn't want to see you get hurt."

 

"So why did you come back? Why?!"

_Why do you keep coming back to haunt me?_

Akira closes his eyes, then. So he doesn't the look on Akechi's face as he chuckls softly and says.

"You were...the only one who could understand me. And I regretted...never trying to understand you." 

"..."  
Akira lifts his hand up then.

Holding the knife.

 

"...Sorry, Akechi." 

Weak fingers pressing the handle to Akechi's and he smiles even as Akechi takes them both in a painful grip. 

"I'm sorry that I loved you."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

_"Why must you both be together every single time?"_

Loki asks him. 

...Odd. His voice was still a booming echo in Akechi's head, sure, but it...was so much quieter than usual.

 

The answer was so much simpler than you realized. 

The sound of laughter. Quiet. Desperate laughter. 

It wasn't from Loki. It sounded so much more human-like.

 

Echoing in the depths of his own throat, through his lips. 

Really.

What a fucking mess.

 

Once more, again, he feels the loop starting back up. 

And Loki anew asks him, in that same, quiet voice.

 

_"What is your wish, little prince?"_

_"Name your desires and this world will grant it for you. And in exchange..."_

 

Akechi feels the knife in his fingers, stained with blood. 

And presses the knife to his throat.

 

_"You must give up on your reality."_

_"So will you make it?"_

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

As if he could want anything else. 

As if he deserved anything else.

 

Akechi opens his eyes once again, to a cold, empty flat. 

And he waits in this darkness, in this frigid void that he called a home. 

...It never was one before all this, either. Or maybe it was.

 

He couldn't tell.

The doorbell rings just then. 

A quiet buzz that he somehow hears in the darkness. Only once. 

 

"..."

He doesn't want to wake up. But he has to.

...He notices it when he's standing up.

There's a glitch in the corner of the room. Already?

"...Strange." Even more reason to not ignore his 'guest', though.

 

What is your wish? Loki asked him. For this loop, it was a strangely simple one. 

He thinks that as he opens the door.

Just to have met him earlier. 

 

In a happier, better life.

Kurusu Akira looks at him, then. A familiar sight in a...familiar uniform.

That he hadn't seen in quite some time.

 

...Perhaps the most cruel one of all.

"Hey."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

**Seraphina**

**Chapter 3: Bargaining(like a banker, blinded by lofty, shining promises, just barely in reach.)**

**End.**

 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 


	4. Depression

Seraphina  
  
Chapter 4:

 

The fourth loop was something that he remembered often, in particular. He doesn't know what that says about his own psyche.

Considering that it involved a cold, barren apartment, devoid of anything except a TV and the constant screech of static, the soft, straining light in the darkness, a mattress and some plates of untouched food and drink.

A frigid, cold, dark little world. 

 

There's the faintest of movements on the mattress. Akira was stirring. Possibly in response to the click of the door opening. 

"I'm back."

At Akechi's words, his body seemed to stiffen, his breathing stills, becomes quieter and quieter till it's barely at the edge of Akechi's hearing.

Such futile efforts to hide. Animalistic almost.

 

The first aid kit is a mess on the floor, from the incident earlier in the morning. Come to think of it, Akira was still huddled up against the wall in the same position from that time. 

"You haven't touched your food." Akechi notes and Akira flinches again at that. He backs more up against the wall when Akechi kneels in front of him, fingers grasping desperately at the peeling cement.

Akechi ignores all of this and reaches his arm out towards him, sinking his fingers in matted, grimy hair and pulling until he sees those eyes. 

 

"...Ah."

They're still as animated, wild as ever. 

Glaring at him with the hatred he deserved.

"...That's good. You're still as energetic." 

The clink of chains as Akira struggles against his grasp. Days upon days of confinement working against him as Akechi unbuttons his shirt.

 

A soft groan of pain as Akechi touches the bandages. 

Claws at the wound over his heart in one long, drawn-out scratch.

"Of course, lack of food won't kill you. A gunshot wound didn't." 

"..."

The creaks and groans of Akira's throat as he tries to will himself to speak. Of course, he won't. He can't. 

He's still far from pliant, drugs or not.

 

"...I'm going to find them you know. So make it easier on me." 

Akechi lies through his teeth about the uneventful day. 

"Give up your friends' hiding place, and I'll try a little harder to spare their lives."

"..." 

 

With chained up arms and legs, there wasn't much he could do to show his defiance. 

Save for spitting at the ground, and refusing to speak. 

"...Good. Exactly as I'd hoped."

"..."

 

"You've given me more of a reason to destroy them." Akechi says and he can't stop himself from smiling now, watching the little color that Akira had drain from his face, "Those stupid, disgusting bonds of yours. To rip them apart and tear them to pieces and it will be all your fault."

"Do...n't!" 

"Oh, your life is already forfeit as far as Shido is concerned. There's no use in killing an already dead man. Though, it's just a matter of time how long you'd last on such a petty matter as a hunger strike." 

"You...won't...you won't hurt..."

"Them? Or you?" Akechi's expression is cold, "You're useless in that regard." 

 

Akechi notes the hand that grips at his collar. No cause for concern, of course. 

His strength was long gone from the relaxants that Akechi had given him.

"I...hate...you!" 

"...I know."

 

He freezes as Akechi pulls him into an embrace. 

"I know." Akechi repeats, "That's good." 

"...?"

"Hate me more. You'll survive then."

 

"Sur...?"

"Hating me is enough for now. I'll..."

I'll find a way out. And then...

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"Akechi." 

"...Hm?" Akechi looks up at Kurusu.

"Your food." 

"...Oh. Sorry." Akechi wipes up the food spilled from his fork with a nearby tissue, "Must have dozed off there."

 

"...While eating?" 

"I haven't been sleeping well. At all." Akechi says shortly, as he resumes eating. Curry for breakfast was an odd choice, but a good one for eating's sake. 

"Nightmares?"

There's a clink of the spoon against Akechi's plate. 

"Are they really bad?" 

"Not...not too bad." Akechi smiles at him, a tight smile, "You don't have to worry." 

 

"...Are you sure?" 

"What?" 

"Are you sure?" Kurusu pressed on, "You look...pretty bad, right now."

"I said I'm fine." Akechi says shortly. And resumes eating. 

As well as he could, at any rate, under the scrutinizing gaze that Kurusu kept on him throughout the entire meal.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Each loop tied into a particular wish, he found as the days passed. And each loop was tied to a set period of seven days. 

It didn't necessarily have to be seven days. The Akira who was Akechi's childhood friend lasted for seven days before the stalker had found and attempted to kill him, while the

Akira who was a runaway from the gang had lasted for only four before he attempted to end the standoff himself.

 

Key word being: attempted.

 

As each loop couldn't end until Akechi had finished Akira off himself. And it was something, a condition that Akechi himself had t0 fulfill no matter how he hated it. 

Why is that, he wonders.

As he sinks into the depths of the dream.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It's the fourth loop's dream. 

Of Akira, quietly huddled away in the corner of the room, in the cold, cold room. With nothing but the sound of TV static flooding his ears and the soft sound of breathing and-

Akechi wasn't there.

 

_"I found you."_

He gasps as claws wrap around his throat, under his chin and his body rammed against the wall, his hands in a harsh, vice-like grip. 

The fourth loop Akira barely stirs.

 

_"I found you, my pretty little interloper."_

"...Lo...ki."   
"You've remembered my name. How flattering." Akechi's voice, distorted and static-y laughs in his ear, "I was wondering who it was that was peeking at his dreams. To think that it would be you, Kurusu Akira."

 

"...!"

_"Has stealing hearts given you the habit of peering inside them? How repulsive you've become."_

"...No. It's...it's not that." 

_"Since when, have you been seeing into his dreams?"_

"...Ugh...!"

 

Akira groans in pain as Loki pulls at his arms more and grits his teeth.

_"Speak now, unless you wish to go back to being like this."_

And Akira's eyes wander over to his fourth loop counterpart inspite of himself. 

_"A spineless, dead-willed puppet, made for his own desires."_

"...De...sires?" 

_"You know the meaning of each loop by now, don't you? I've been noticing your presence for a while now."_

 

Metallic, cold, Akira feels the fire of his body bite into his skin like ice. 

"You saw what he desires of you." Loki croons into his ear, "You saw what he wants from you." 

"..."

_"Fake kindness, fake friendships. Fake desire. All of it imagined in that sad, sad little mind. You've seen all of that, you've seen him at his lowest, most intimate moments, have you not?"_

"...I have." 

_"And yet, you're here. Shouldn't you be repulsed? Shouldn't you have stayed away?"_

 

"...I want to help."

_"Hm?"_

"I want to help him." Akira says, steadily. Looking back, towards Loki with a steady, familiar gaze, "I want to help him escape." 

_"Help him?" Loki snarls, "Help him? Out of what? This is his own prison and he himself owns the key."_

 

"..."

_"Simple pity will save no-one, trickster. He knows that all too well."_

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

"You look worse than me today." 

"Do I?" Akira says, with a yawn, from the coffee machine, "I think your nightmares are contagious."

 

Akechi pauses. Looks over at him. "Are they now. What's your brand of nightmares, then?" 

"Hmm." Akira places a cup near where Akechi sits, "You first." 

"...I'd rather not." 

"Me either." Akira says simply.

 

"Touche." 

"But we can talk about other things, can't we?"

"Oh? Like what?" Akechi asks, somewhat surprised. 

 

"Just topics. Anything really." 

"But don't you already know everything there is to know about me?"

 

Akira sips his coffee. By this point, Akechi's already occupied with noting the glitches flashing in the corner of the room. 

So does Akira as he asks, 

"Why don't we find out?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

When Akechi returns to the fourth loop again, Akira's already sitting in place. 

Staring at the TV.

 

"You're up early." Akechi says, with a raised eyebrow. Akira doesn't look at him. 

"You feel like talking yet?" 

"..."

"Or have you lost the ability to?"

 

Akira grits his teeth as Akechi approaches. Already bracing himself for the hit. 

For the touch. 

It's much softer on his cheek now.

 

"...Your face is bruising up." Akechi says quietly, touching the sore place under his eye, "Possibly from earlier. I'm sorry about that." 

"..."

The fear was overtaking his body.

 

"Do you feel like talking now? Making it easier on yourself?" 

"..."

"I suppose not." 

**_"...What...do you want from me?"_ **

 

"I've already told you, haven't I?" 

**_"...Why...keep me alive?"_ **

"Because you want to die."

Akechi's responses are distracted as he inspects Akira's face and neck, his hands. 

"I was wondering this before, but...you're oddly suited to these chains. Considering that that depraved teacher was the first one you'd defeated, I wonder if you found yourself in these before. Or perhaps, more of it is attributed to that time in the interrogation."

 

"..."

"Do you remember that? The bruises haven't healed yet, of course." Akechi's smile fades away now, a look of disgust on his face, "To think they'd go so far as to drug you in order to sign a confession...absolute trash, those adults are."

**_"...You're...doing it, too."_ **

 

"It's the only thing that will keep you here." 

Akechi's fingers touch his throat where the bruises were. Bruises shaped like fingers. 

**_"...It's the only thing that will...keep me safe?"_ **

"...What?"

 

**_"Keep...me trapped here...? Before Shido finds you or me?"_ **

"...What?" Akechi repeats again. 

This was wrong.

His mind was whirling.

 

**_"Keep...me trapped?"_** Akira repeats, ** _"So I don't die?"_ **

This was wrong. 

He was supposed to be hated. He was supposed to be despised.

This isn't what happened.

 

**_"Don't you...see...what you're doing?"_ **

"What?" Akechi snaps. 

He flinches away when Akira touches his cheek.

 

This isn't what happened in the fourth loop.

 

**_"Your...mother..."_ **

"What?!" 

**_"Don't...do...what he did..."_ **

 

_"Is this your gambit?"_

"...?!" 

Loki speaks up behind him.

His claws...reaching for Akira.

"Don't touch him!"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Akechi wakes up in a cold sweat. 

"...What...was that?" He mutters to himself.

 

"You alive?" 

"...!" 

Akira was leaning over the sofa, giving him an inquisitive look. 

"...Apologies. You...uh. Startled me." 

 

"I noticed. So, listen. I have a plan."

"A plan?"

"A plan." Akira says, with a comically serious expression on his face, "To get us both to stop having nightmares."

"...Al...alright. And what does this plan entail?" 

 

"That depends. How fast does it take you to get dressed?"

"Huh?"

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

The clink of the bell is exactly as he's remembered it. 

"...It's been a while since I've been here." Akira says, breezing past him, already making his way for the counter. Almost on instinct. 

"...I could...say the same."

 

It was almost like nothing had changed.

Hesitantly, Akechi sits on the stool as Akira starts pulling out some jars from the cupboards. 

"Nice. Looks like they're still here."

 

"The coffee beans?"

"Mmhm. I'll make the Leblanc house blend for you." 

"...You didn't even take my order yet." 

"Do you ever order anything else?"

 

"...Not really." 

Akechi's replies are distracted. He looks over the cafe as if he's never been in it before. 

It's...been so long.

 

The scent of coffee is painfully nostalgic. 

"I figured we could use a change of scene." Akira says, "And luckily, Boss isn't here." 

"Luckily...?" 

"It looked like you needed time for yourself." 

"...You're exaggerating. I'm fine, really."

 

"Still, nothing like a good cup of the strong stuff to help you stay awake. I know you need some of those." 

"...And perhaps an ear to listen to my woes?" 

Akira looks at him, then. A little more solemn.

 

"...Basically." He says. 

Akechi sighs. 

Ironic that the cause of his troubles ask him that.

 

"...Then again, I'm the wrong person to ask, huh."

That does catch Akechi's attention, "What do you mean?" 

"Don't you hate me?"

 

The candidness of it catches Akechi off-guard, "...What?" 

"You do, don't you." 

...Did he hate this loop's Akira? Akira's behaviour never indicated it or...anything otherwise. 

 

"I...do?"

And Akira smiles for some reason.

It's...the smile that he hates. It looks a bit off on this Akira. 

 

"Yeah." 

"...It's nothing like that." Akechi says, "I was just thinking of something else. The last time I sat in this...in a coffeeshop." 

"Oh?" Akira seems to perk up then, "And what happened there?"

 

"'What happened' you say...nothing really. Most of it involved talking with someone."

"Talking with someone?" 

"Yes. A...friend? I suppose."

 

"You don't sound certain." Akira raises an eyebrow. 

"I'm not sure what he was." 

"Would you have liked him to be a friend?"

 

"...No. I don't think we would have been friends, all things considered." 

Akechi stirs his coffee, a preparatory ritual, a familiar one. 

"He was...'special'. Honestly at a glance, you could never tell." Akechi says with a slight scoff, "Perhaps I'm even over-romanticizing him. He's the spitting image of your average teenager, but...I thought there was something to him."

"...Something?"

"Something that made me want to confide in him. I ended up telling him things that I've never told anyone else. I ended up wanting...to perhaps get to know him a little better. Even though the origin of my interest was in no way as innocent as mere curiosity."

Akechi sets the spoon down and picks the cup up, nursing it in his fingers.

 

"I wonder if that was friendship. Even with ulterior motives. I...wouldn't know." 

"..."

"...Sorry. I think I've brought the mood down."

 

"I asked." Akira shrugs, "If you want to talk more, that's fine. I can...try to be a stand-in for him." 

And Akechi couldn't help it. He laughed. 

The irony of it was hard to ignore.

 

"...You'd think I'd learnt my lesson with 'stand-ins'. But...maybe that wouldn't be so bad." 

And Akechi smiles at him. 

A smile Akira's come to hate.

 

"Maybe...I can handle it for one more time."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

_"Simple pity will save no-one, trickster. He knows that all too well."_

"This isn't just pity."

 

And Loki recoils as blue flames sear across Akira's skin.

In the cold light of the static, the glint of chains and fire and the maniacal grin of his other self. 

"I'm here to save him. With nothing more to offer than the bond between us." Akira says, as he grips Arsene's chains.

 

_"Bond?"_ Loki snarls, _"Bonds?!"_

And he throws his head back and laughs. The sound he's never heard, mangled and twisted. 

_"Ha! What a tasteless joke. You must be the real Kurusu Akira."_

"...The real...?"

 

_"If you think that such a worthless thing can save him,"_ Loki extends a claw towards Akira, _"Why do we not make a deal?"_

"...What kind of deal?"

_"Use that special 'bond' that the both of you have. Twisted, though it may be. Mangled, though it may be."_

And the world around them...Akechi's memory. 

It starts to burn in a blue fire.

 

_"Even though the truth of your relationship has mangled and wrecked it beyond repair..."_

And it starts to glitch out.

_"Use that precious 'bond' of yours to wreck his wretched world."_

Before his eyes, Loki bows his head to him.

 

_"Use it...to stop me."_

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

There wasn't much he could do, all things considered. All Akira could do was lend an ear. 

And hope for the best.

 

But even before he set forth in this world, he wondered to himself.

Why was it focused around Akira? 

And why was the loop's Akira focused on him?

 

A wish, was the logical conclusion. 

All of his wishes centered around Akira in some way.

 

Loop 4, the wish to hide Akira away. While Shido's influence continued to grow, even as Akira's friends and Akechi himself were placed in danger. 

Loop 7, the wish to put Akira 'in the place where he belongs'. And the regret in seeing him there, as evidenced by the visits to the jail that Akechi made. 

Loop xx, the wish to have been better friends with Akira. Childhood friends who understood each other. 

Loop xx+1, the wish to have his situation reversed. How it would have worked out in the real world had Akira broken his parole.

 

All of it central to Akira. 

All of the Akiras centered around him.

 

Why?

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

**Akira:** Why?

When Akechi traversed back to the ruined dreamworld, this is what he finds.

What he imagined the child form of Akira to be, waiting for him there.

 

**Akechi:** What do you mean? 

He resigns himself, weary, to yet another scripted conversation. 

More scripted reactions. 

What he wanted to hear.

 

 

**Akira:** Why did you make this world? 

**Akechi:** ...

 

Something...he wanted to hear. 

**Akechi:** Because I didn't want to be alone anymore. 

**Akira** : ...

**Akira:** Why me? 

**Akechi:** ...You were the only person that understood me. 

**Akechi** : ...I suppose it'd be natural that I developed an obsession with you. 

**Akechi:** An unnatural, unhealthy one.

**Akira** : ...Can I ask you one more thing? 

**Akechi** : -chuckle- ...When have you ever stopped? 

**Akira:** Why did you make...all the copies of me..

 

In a split second, the child Akira was replaced. 

By another one. 

Dressed in a familiar black outfit, a familiar white mask.

 

**Akechi:** ...?!

**Akira:** Why did you make me love you?

**Akechi** : ...Lo...ve? 

The word tastes unfamiliar. 

**Akira:** All of the Akiras beforehand.

**Akira:** No matter how terrible you were to them, no matter what you did to them. 

**Akira:** They all loved you. 

**Akechi:** How could you-

**Akira** : I know.   
  
**Akira:** I...feel it even now.

 

A hand over his heart and he draws it back. 

Seemingly, magically, pulling a knife from his cloak.

 

**Akira:** As soon as I stepped into this world, I felt an urge...a pull to love you. 

**Akechi:** ...?! 

**Akira:** And once you're done with me, you'd kill me. 

**Akira** : And the loop starts again, and again, until the world around you twisted. 

**Akira:** You know why, don't you?

 

Akechi takes a step back.

 

**Akira:** Because you realize how wrong it became.  
  
 **Akechi:** What is this?!

 

Is this what he wanted to hear?

**Akechi:** Who are you?!  
  
 **Akira:** ....

 

Akira takes a deep breath. 

 

**Akira:**...I wanted to help you. Help you escape. 

**Akechi:** What?! 

**Akira:** But do you want to, anymore?

 

**Akechi:** Want...to? 

**Akira:** You could be trapped here, in a world of your desires. 

**Akira** : Or you could escape with me.

 

What even was this?

 

**Akechi** : Ha. Logically, I'd pick the first option. 

**Akira:** And I don't think it's that simple. 

**Akechi:** Why? 

**Akira:** You let me in.

 

Let...let him in?

 

Wait. 

 

**Akira:** We can escape. We can but...

**Akira:** Do you trust me?

 

Trust? 

Did Akechi...trust him?

 

**Akechi:** ...Haha...

He laughs. It sounds broken, hollow. 

**Akechi:** ...As if I could do that now. 

**Akira** : Akechi? 

**Akechi:** That's enough. 

**Akira** : Wait-

**Akechi** : I said, that's enough!

 

And the world around them starts to break. 

The floor starting to crack around Akira's feet.

 

Even then, in spite of that, 

Akira reaches out to him.

 

**Akira:** Akechi-

**Akechi** : There's...nothing more you can do. 

**Akira** : Wait-!

**Akechi** : Begone!

 

And the floor cracks. 

And Akira falls into the void.

 

**Akechi** : ...!

Akechi runs to him but it's already too late. 

 

He's already gone. 

He's already lost.

 

**Loki** : _He's already lost the deal._

**Loki:** _How pitiable. But what a fitting end it is._

 

Akechi closes his eyes as the void from the pit starts to crawl up his arm. 

Engulfing him.

 

**Loki** : _For both of you to be lost in this dream._

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

  
**Seraphina**

**Chapter 4: Depression(like the lonely pharaoh awaiting an asp that she could not bear to touch.)**

**End.**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

 


	5. Acceptance

Seraphina   
  
Chapter 5:

 

"This, perhaps, is the end of our contract." Igor says. That makes him look up. Igor continues.

"'Perhaps'. In this realm of possibilities, the fact that such a word exists is a curious thing."

 

And he stays silent, pondering.

"The card that you possess is an indicator of both sides of this word."

At Igor's words he looks at the card again. It's a glowing, familiar warmth in his hands.

It makes his heart ache, just a bit.

 

He looks up just as Lavenza approaches.

"The World is an arcana that represents the strengths of the bonds you have come to possess. Your rehabilitation", Here, there's a wry smile at the word, "has progressed to the best possible outcome. But...

 

"..." He stays silent.

"...In this realm of possibilities, it seems that is not what you want."

 

He kneels down to her level and she cups his hands in hers.

"The bond that lays severed at your fingertips. You have seen it through to its very outcome."

"...Have I?" He asks, through a hoarse, unwilling throat.

 

Igor chuckles.

"Perhaps...not."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

**_"Perhaps this is not the end."_ **

"..." Akira looks over to his side, "...Arsene."

**_"You've finally awoken."_ **

 

Akira's persona was there. Flickering, like static on a TV screen, but still there.

"Where are we?" Akira asks as he slowly pulls himself up to his feet.

**_"A place where we are not supposed to be."_ **

 

"...Loki?"

**_"A possible option."_ **

"...If we're here, we should look around. I need to go and meet up with him."

 

**_"Wait."_ **

"...What is it?"

**_"Before you go forward, you must know this. We are in the depths of Akechi Goro's world. The part of it where even he refuses to go."_ **

"...I see. It's best if we move quickly. Is there a way forward?"

 

**_"There is but one way. A door further in."_ **

"Got it."

There's no sound but the clink of chains as Arsene floats behind him as they walk along in this world of white, this empty silence.

 

Until he sees it. A door.

 

"..."

It looked...familiar. "The door to the interrogation room."

**_"Our way out lies beyond here."_ **

"...Of course it does."Akira says, wearily.

 

He's still a bit hesitant opening that door.

  
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

Accept me.

He whispers into Akechi's ear, in a loving embrace.

Of course, Akechi had heard it before.

Accept me.

 

Accept me, Goro.

 

When Akira meets his eyes for the first time.

When Akira is pinned underneath him, screaming his name.

When Akira smiles at him from across the table, the smell of coffee and warm breakfast on his tongue.

When he plunges his knife in Akira's ribs, over marring red and sickly pale skin.

 

When Akira's skin is bruised and his lips crack into a weak smile, the silver of handcuffs biting his wrist.

When Akira's been starved for days, weeks, trapped in a desperate embrace by a child that he could have pushed away, run from at any time.

When Akira's taken away by a cruel, familiar face, for more, more unsavoury acts that he couldn't bear to think about.

When Akira plays the role of dutiful big brother to a child that was never loved.

When Akira plays the role of dutiful childhood friend to a boy that was never loved.

When Akira sells his body to him and promises him that he would never love.

When Akira swears, under the lamplight, that his damaged, unhealed heart would love only him.

 

As Goro lay dying on the cold, metallic floor, he looks into those cold, metallic grey eyes .

Plunging the knife deep where Goro's heart should be, Akira kisses him harshly.

 

"It hurts, doesn't it? It hurts a lot."

"..."

"This is what you did to me. This is what I felt, every single time, as you tried to kill me."

 

It hurts, so much. His body is a mesh of pain and desperation, his nerve endings on fire, even as it lay unresponsive to his desperate commands. His mind, even more worse off as the screams that couldn't make his way to his throat were trapped all the way in the back.

And even through it all, he's glad.

He smiles, he thinks, back up at Akira. It's hard to tell.

 

"Are you going to die here?"

 

Akira asks him and Goro's lips mouth the word.

Yes.

"Is this your redemption?"

Yes.

"You love him that much?"

 

He's not sure. He doesn't know love.

Love took everything away from him.

 

A kind-hearted mother.

A person he could not have.

 

It's easier to count who loved him in the palm of one hand.

 

So Goro can't answer this. Instead another makes his way to his mind alone.

I want to die here. It's easier.

"Even if he wants to see you again?"

 

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He couldn't speak.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

 

The smell was the first thing he registered.

It choked his throat.

 

"...!!"

 ** _"Don't look away."_ ** Arsene says, grimly.

 

The smell of rotting flesh and clotted blood.

And then, what he sees finally registered.

Against the pure white walls of this pristine world, splattered with clotted blood, lay what seemed like hundreds upon hundreds of bodies.

His...Akira's bodies. Laid carefully against the wall, arranged with a strange kind of reverence, amidst white flowers stained with their blood.

Bodies...of the Akiras from the previous loops. Akira recognized the him from the previous loop, the gang runaway. And the one before that, the childhood friend.

 

...Even...there were Akiras that appeared to be...older than him.

And some as small and young as-

 

**_"Akira."_ **

"...I'm fine." Akira says resolutely, "...I'm not turning away."

In this graveyard of loss and regret, Akira continues to walk. His heels clicking on the marble floor until...until.

In the heart of the room, there was a table. In a chair, another Akira seated.

 

No, not just any Akira.

"...This seems familiar." Akira says, looking at the him that lay on the interrogation room table, eyes wide open, in permanent shock, "...Is this how I looked like when I died back there?"

In his hands was a gun. Possibly the same one that Akechi had used to commit the deed.

 

"..."

Akira ponders upon it briefly before he takes it in his hands. Checks it. 

Still loaded, five in the chamber.

 

"... In case we have another standoff with Loki." Not like he was going to fire anyway. Would it even take, in the cognitive world?

"There lays another door. Tightly shut, it appears."  
"..."  
And Akira had even more of a bad feeling about this door. The dread that dragged at his feet and clogged his throat, his lungs.  
It wasn't his.

 

 _"D̸o͝n͢'̕t҉."͢_ Called a voice as his hand touched the doorknob.

Distorted, static-like, the voice of a persona. A voice that he knew.

 

 _"_ Robin Hood? _"_

"Behind that door lays the very object he hates." Robin Hood's tone is solemn. Quiet.

"The past." Akira answers for them both. After so long of studying Akechi, the answer was childishly easy.

 

_"..̸.Cor͝r̕e͡ct҉, A͠rse̢ne's̵ ͞oth͡e͟r ͝hal̷f͏."_

 

It's quiet enough that he could hear the faintest sounds.

Of glass breaking.

Of people screaming.

 

"Look at me!"

"Look at me, Goro!"

 

Of a child, crying.

 

Just hearing that makes Akira shudder.

"...Is he through here?"

 _"͢..͏.̛Tr͡ap̸pe͏d in̶ ̡the pa҉s̕t,̛ in̡ hi͠s̡ re͟m̧i̷n͠s̵cing̶_." Robin Hood says.

 

"I see."

_"H͘e ̶doe͜s n͏o͏t̸ ͜w͝a͜nt͏ ̡you."_

  
"I know." 

Akira opens the door.   
  
"..."

 

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Death is the strangest thing he's ever known.

He's known it in a multitude of ways.

 

First, as red coloring in water, blooming in it as a grotesque kind of flower.

Was it because that life had ended on its own?

 

He ponders through the cold shock of it all, once he's done crying, once he's done screaming. Once he's realized that all of that won't help him.

Once he's realized that he has to think that way from now on, because no one would think of him as anything more than a burden.

Was it because her life had ended by her own terms?

There was a cold finality to it, that looked almost beautiful.

 

He'd grown up thinking, perhaps, that he'd have liked to die that way. Before he's driven to that point. A coward's way out.

Even though he desperately wanted to pick up that knife as the months passed, years passed and his heart grew colder and colder.

 

When was the last time he'd cried?

He thinks through the bile that passed through his lips, the revulsion of it.

He ended another life

He didn't imagine it wouldn't be his own.

 

Was it because mother died on her own terms?

The insects that he killed died with twisted, revolting faces even as they disappeared into a shadow's mist.

They lacked that beauty, that finality.

That sense of despair.

 

He didn't pick up that knife, even then.

He had something to live for. That pinprick of revenge that seemed as an unreachable hope was finally in his hands.

 

He saw fit to end his own life once he ended his father's. Perhaps the duty of the bastard son.

Of course...like most things in his life, it never could be that easy.

 

Deaths in the real world were...

They looked more like the murders they were.

Akira's corpse hits the desk with a sickening thud, a finality, as his blood stained the desk with red.

 

And he still didn't feel.

He thought he didn't.

Until the door closes behind him, in his bathroom and his knees sank to the floor and his lungs, his throat gave way.

 

Ah, he thought, it was better not to feel.

 

He thought that his emotions, his heart had shut away completely with the death of his greatest enemy.

Just...finish the plan, he thinks to himself.

What will happen after that? He tries not to think about it.

 

There's no way to have done things differently.

There's no way he could have survived.

 

That is what Akechi thinks as he watches the broadcast in his darkened room with wide eyes.

...Stran...ge.

He should...feel fury right now. No, he does.

Of course he does.

 

Instead of pretending to himself, it descends down on his heart, his lungs in a quickened pace and a furious scream.

And it descends into wild, crazed laughter and tears that fall down his cheeks.

 

He should have predicted this. He did at some level, in the back of his mind.

His grief stopped him.

 

Grief.

...There's no point in putting off their reunion any longer.

 

Kurusu Akira needed to die for his goals.

 

And therein lay the logic behind this eternal 'loop'.

Or so Akechi had come to assume.

 

His admittedly morbid fascination with death and Kurusu Akira.

 

That was all. That was all it needed to be.

Nothing more.

And there's no need for it to become more.

 

He's dead. Isn't he?

 

"Only if you want it to be. In your reality."

That voice.

  
Akechi opens his eyes.

 

He knows this room even if he's never seen it before.

The chilled air was a strange comfort to his body. He assumes that he's lying on wooden floors but it's hard to see exactly through the fog.

Surrounded on all sides by wooden bars...no, a podium of some sort. A witness'...stand?

 

He's interrupted from his musings by a sudden loud burst of noise.

"...!"

It's coming from above.

 

He looks up.

And hardly dares to believe his eyes.

 

"Congratulations!" Says the voice of his dreams, his nightmares. A delighted, almost childlike tone as he continues to clap, an absolutely familiar smirk on his face that Akechi could see all the way up there.  
From where he was seated on...what appeared to be the desk of a judge's podium of some sort. Cartoonishly gigantic, at an absurd height from the ground.

 

"An excellent job of coming back here. You're truly worthy, truly deserving of that title you hide deep in your heart."

"Ti...tle?"

 

All the prompting that he needed, apparently.

Without so much of a warning, he pushes himself off of the desk and falls towards the ground.

"...! Wait!"

 

Akechi shouts and tries to stand up, but he's already landed gracefully on the ground by that point.

"I welcome you, Trickster."

He straightens up and smiles at Akechi, before bending his head down again, picking up his cape and descending into a bow.

 

 

"Welcome to the Velvet Room."

 

Akechi barely hears this. His eyes are trained on Kurusu Akira's form and his alone.s.

"The...Velvet Room?"

In a grand sweeping gesture, Akira spreads his arms and continues, "But of course. This place exists in dreams and reality, mind and matter-"

"Aren't I dead?" Akechi asks, flatly.

 

"As I said, only if you want to throw your life away."

And Akechi just can't help himself. He chuckles, bitter, mirthless.

"'Only if I...do you know what I've been through?" He glares at Akira, this object of his downfall, "Oh but of course you have."

'..."

"Seen every disgusting, ugly, vile part of me." Akechi starts cackling now, mirthless, desperate, "Seen the times that I've fucked you and killed you, discarded you without a moment's hesitation. Seen the times I've imprisoned you in my own mind and made you little more than a puppet in my sad little mind. I'd imagine that would give you some idea of what I've been through."

 

"It did."

"I take it I enlightened you with this shitshow of depravity. Of my feelings towards you."

"..."

"Don't be shy, now."

 

His voice is shaking with barely sheathed anger, "Say it out loud for this whole dying world to hear. How obsessed I'd grown with you, to the point where I hated you even more than I did. How I'd obsessed over the first time I'd killed someone who just happened to be you, how it fucked me up on the inside, how-"

"Akechi!"

"Say it!" Akechi is shouting now, loudly, echoing in the cold air, "Say that you're disgusted by me already! Say that you're giving up on me! Give me a reason to hate you!"

The last part in a broken scream. He braces his hands against the podium and screams this in frustration, in anger, and he hates the look in Akira's eyes as he watches this mess unfold.

 

God, he hates it. Even though...

"...Give me a reason to stop...loving you."

Akechi says, finally.

 

"..."

"Because I do. At...at some level, I suppose, if I've made this world about you."'

"I don't hate you Akechi."

Akechi scoffs, "There's no reason to lie here. We're in this coutroom now, aren't we?"

 

"Like I said, this room appears only as you want it to appear. You interrupted me in the middle of my speech." Akira informs him somewhat grumpily. It was almost comical.

He raises his arm and continues,

 

"Welcome to the Velvet Room. This place exists between dreams and reality, mind and matter."

"...So, like a regular palace."

"You've been in one of these before." Akira says, "At least once, I'm pretty sure. Then again, knowing who was in charge of yours, it may have appeared different to you."

"...What was yours like?"

"A ring of prison cells."

 

This conversation was extremely surreal, Akechi notes in the back of his mind.

"...I don't hate you. I never did." Akira says quietly.

"You're lying."

"Considering what you did, I did before. I would hate you at some level...but I don't now." Akira shakes his head.

"...Still, finding that hard to believe."

 

"It's true."

"...You're not even repulsed by what you've seen?" Akechi asks, mockingly.

"..."

"See? Now just make it easier on both of us and say that you hate me. Say it."

 

Even if it's a lie.

 

"I'm pretty sure you know by now I'm not one of your puppets. You can't manipulate me into saying whatever you want to hear." Akira says quietly, "...No matter what you do,

what I've seen. You can't make me hate you."

"And why is that? I don't think you've ever been that kind, that generous towards me." Akechi says, scathingly.

"...I don't know why either. I said it was because of bonds, but that's not just it."

 

Akira looks down at his hand. When Akechi follows his line of sight, he notices...a card in Akira's hands.

"Maybe it's just because I didn't want to give up on you."

 

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There's a click, a warning.

Then the sound of a gunshot.

 

When Akechi awakens back in the real world, the cognitive Akira falls to the side and Akechi's eyes wander over to the real Akira's form.

"...All those times I could have used a gun instead...of a knife." Akechi mutters as he's pulled up into a sitting position. His breathing are gasps through the chest wound, it burns in his skin, in between the layers of flesh and blood. "...No, knives hurt...too."

"You alright?" Akira asks, kneeling beside him.

"...I thought I died. I made my peace with it too."

 

"It'd be a bit hard to do that, seeing as your own world won't let you. Or to be more specific, your other self."

And Akechi notices a flash of blue besides him.

"...Of course. Dying would be too convenient for me. And he's not been one to make things convenient."

"...Akechi."

 

"...This seems familiar."

"Familiar?"

 

"You've seen it. In the first loop." Akechi closes his eyes, "In Shido's...ship. With fire on all sides and I...killed you. For the first time."

"..."

"I thought...I would be relieved. All I felt was regret and then...I suppose it had an influence on the other loops. On my already crumbling mind." And he chuckles.

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

 

"Akechi. It's alright now."

"No. It'll never be alright. When I go back...I'll just have to face it all again. I'll have to face it all again. I don't...know if I can handle it."

He hates how weak he sounds. How very like the child he is.

 

"But you'd be able to live again."

 

 

Ironic that he'd say it now, when Akechi's closest to dying than he'd ever been.

"And we'd be able to talk again."

 

"...We would."

"...Live, Akechi. Please."

 

  
A familiar pose. With positions reversed.

Akira pulls off his glove and touches Akechi's cheek.

"Live so we can see each other again."

 

"...How cruel, you are."

"..."

Akechi opens his eyes as the room around them cracks, just a bit.

 

"You're giving me more of a reason to live."

 

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**Seraphina**

**Chapter 5: Acceptance(to protect those you loved behind an iron wall and a gun in your shaking hands.)**

**End.**

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	6. Love

Seraphina

Chapter 6:

 

He thinks to himself how much he's come to like the world he's taken for granted, all this while.

And on a day such as this, the watery sunlight and the warming breeze, with the last traces of winter left behind, gave him even more of a bittersweet feeling.

 

"You're not going in?" Morgana asks.

"...I have something else to do."

"Another goodbye?"

"Kind of." Akira smiles at him, "Go on in. I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

Morgana shrugs and Akira pushes the door to let him in.

When it shuts behind him with a clink, he looks behind him.

 

"...Hey."

"...The day that I work up the nerve to see you is the day before you leave. Of course." Akechi says, stepping forward.

"...Sorry about that." Akira chuckles, "But you could have come to see me earlier? I was released a while ago."

"I did. You were still locked up."

  
"Sae-san told me that you were doing well."

"Well, the rehabilitation also added to the delay." Akechi says, "Then again, I'm pretty sure being trapped in my own mind probably added to that." Akechi sighs, "I'm almost positive that Shido interfered with my cognitive processes somehow and tried to make a palace and distort my personality. Does it stop the healing of bullet wounds?"

"...I have a pretty good guess as to who did that. And it's not Shido."

"Do you?"  
"Well, we took care of him."

"...? If you say so."

 

Akira shakes his head. "You're here, now. That's fine."

"...Another part of the reason I couldn't come by earlier is because I didn't know what to say. I...don't know what else I can talk about, even though there's so much I can think of. Saying them is a whole different option."

"...Yeah."

 

 

The silence that falls is a strangely peaceful, comfortable one. If a little awkward.

It's familiar.

With the spring breeze rustling through the trees with a bittersweet kind of peace, what felt like the end of the everything.

And Akira just...feels like smiling all of a sudden. Feels like he's able to say it.

"I'm glad that you're alright." Akira says. He felt a strange kind of urgency to say it, tempered with hesitance to keep this uncomfortable illusion of complacency.  
"...Huh?"  
"I'm so glad you're alive. All that time...ever since the ship. I...we thought we lost you."

"..."

"I regretted it even back then. Maybe that's why."

"That's why?"

"When I was locked up, I reached out to you."

 

"...Shouldn't you have been worrying about yourself in that situation?" Akechi asks with a sigh.

"...You know how bad I am at that." Akira says with a chuckle.

"You somehow keep seeing uglier and uglier sides of me, too."

"Well, you know about my record. Doesn't that count?"

 

"Not at all, considering the circumstances." Akechi scoffs.

"...Akechi."

"Hm?"

...And Akira's closer, somehow. Without Akechi realizing.

 

And Akechi's kissed him so many times in his dreams.

Real life was warmer. A little bit clumsier.

 

"..."

"...I don't know what else to say." Akira says simply, quietly, "But, uh. The cafe's open for today, y'know?"

"...Leave it to you to use the coffee shop for the 'first date'." First date in air quotes.

 

Akechi only manages that much of light-hearted snark before he says quietly, "Are you...sure about this?"

"...I'm not. But...I don't think it'd be too bad right?"

Akechi smiles, just a little bit.

 

"...I suppose not."

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

**Chapter 6: Love.**

**Seraphina**

**End.**

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End file.
